Tuesday, November 10, 2015

A dotted dance ....

Once upon a time I had the fine motor control to do detailed stippling.

........ stippling is simply drawing with dots, lots and lots of dots ....

I did this foal in a series of unicorns and fantasy horses.

Endless hours absorbed while sitting at my desk.

Head phones on. The Beatles singing to just me.

I loved the repetitive staccato rhythm of the pen.

The dance it did.

. . . . dip . . . . dip . . . . dip . . . .

cold black ink, contrasting the steel metal of the oh, so delicate nib . . . .

The slight scratch sound as the nib ever so gently was tugged at by the tiny strands on the thick art paper. . . . . dip  . . . . 

I day dreamed as I drew. Dreaming of framing these pictures and selling them for hundreds of dollars. Dreamed of being famous . . . dip . . .  rich.

Your soul gets exposed in art work. Each brush stroke a truth about your life. The only ones who can decode it are those who happen upon your art and fall in love with it. 

To the rest, its just color / ink on a canvas.

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