Wednesday, December 28, 2016

Art Show #3

Figures, after #2 posted I find the missing pictures!

Laundry room mural. This one and the Russian dragon one might actually still exist.  Again....the light is too dark with the old 35mm to pick up the details.

I can't find the shot prior to this on that I described last blog. but again this shot shows the actual size. I look like hell cause I had to paint at night. Lots of 36 hour hour days while I did this.

 Dabbled in oil pastels but never really mastered them.
 Wasn't able to bend them to my will.
 Ultimately just too messy to keep the finished works.

 But on the other hand, this type of pastels I could use. My grandma Pat brought me back a giant wooden box from one of her European trips with soft non-oil pastels. I think they were French. I used those with some success. Self portrait in Fall of 1981.

My only"masterpiece" with these was a picture of Parker Stevenson. It was destroyed in a suicidal rage/trashing of my stuff.  It was spot on and amazing. Blue ribbon winner at the fair. So many people ooh an aww'd over it. Which is why I think it got targeted in my rage. The attention it brought into my life was a little bit over whelming at that time.

 Cartooning and drawing in felt tips has always been fun.

Was once asked to tinker with making a company mascot. At this time I hadn't drawn in years. It was amazing to step back into drawing. Not sure why I stopped drawing. Now days the nerve damage in my hands makes it too difficult.

 I did a far amount of calligraphy.

 Charcoaled for a bit also. But again too messy to keep/store. My masterpiece with charcoal was in high school. A local photographer (must have been friends with the art teacher) brought in a box of 8x10's of people he has taken head shots of and the class each chose one and did a charcoal version of it.

I choose a beautiful black woman. My ability to draw realistic looking people dwarfed my classmates. My drawing actually looked like the picture.

When they were all hung up on the wall, it was clear who the one with talent was. Some how that perfect drawing made me uncomfortable. I didn't like the attention, I didn't like being in the spot light.

When everyone was done the teacher had the photographer come back in and see the final versions.

I will never be able to un-hear his awful words.

He stood in front of the wall of drawings with the teacher and said loudly enough I am sure the whole class heard him,

"I can't tell which pictures these were drawn from. Except this one," and he pointed at mine. "this one I do recognize."

I could feel the anger in my classmates stares as they all looked at me. I cringed inside and felt sick to my stomach. His cruel words hurt the whole class. I hurt for them, no one likes to put out hard effort to be told there art work is crap.

That picture was also destroyed in the above mentioned rage.

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