studying narrative depiction, Cathedral style..
i have always considered the drawings/pastels/aquarels that i tend to make to be like the printplate of an etching, they are made in function of the final digital image derived off them.
that’s why i call the drawings and all other material remains garbage.
and thus i think of art sales as a curious but i must admit very ingenious way of trying to get rid of your sh*t.
here’s the original A4 sized pastel for this:
so when doing this i wasn’t really choosing colors in function of an end result, i want to have fun when i ‘m drawing so i just pick what is offered and never mind what it ‘means’ it’s a means to an end i don’t want just yet.
you can have it if you come and get it, i’m not spending another dime on it.
all that paper’s making my budget bleed.
but now, well, since i’m reading David Jones and drooling over his graphic marvels, i seem to be getting a bit anxious to get in the game of sign-searching and narrative structures getting shapes and shapes generating narrative and bringing down the house with ambiguous signs and so on untsoweiter.
(re)connecting this new neatness and temperance that is very welcome to me personally (all 28 of us agree, some withstanding spiteful reluctance, but folding in for lack of choice) with the 2020 Artaud SAMOURAÏ cartoon experience.
i feel a great need to learn more in the drawing dept. these days. so i find myself going back to the drawing books and to Breughel and Oriental tapistry patterns and ME-early renaissance fresco’s and pseudo-script on Ancient Greek vases.
in every discipline that i like, there’s always ages that nothing changes, you just stick to what you know for want of anything better, and then suddenly things start to evolve very rapid. it’s like learning jumps in children
i find that the timestretches of learning in drawing are much more pleasant and rewarding than in any other discipline, because they’re fun all the way and you can be sure that you will in fact be learning new capabilities each time. if you follow the right masters, each time the world looks a little clearer afterward , or rather: transparant, because you’re seeing more complexity, not less. it’s the insights that you get as those rotten negentropic complexities start to corrupt and invade the purest of classical lines, how dreadfully long it takes to kill the final say they keep up till the very end, the cosmic wailing rising infernally for them as, for their own sakes, you bury them deep beneath the sickening claustrofobia of today’s obscenities.
blinding glimpses of the old implicate order, flashing out the dark growth of living human rot. every drawing day a shattered day with the blow at its heart of the light admitting it’s love for the dark.
D=TROY.
all my cleaning and household functions abhore drawing. the mess it makes! the burned pots and pans! the ruined trousers!
i silence them with lots of chocolate, raisin bread and a suprise clean-up executed by the Master Itself.
here’s the full Cranach etching that i’m working on, in what i hope will become an interesting series of joyful occasions.
drawing from these old masters is an entirely different experience then looking at the paintings.
it’s more like receiving divine revelations at a steady rate.
their craftmanship is the mastery of a superior animal, it’s hard to see anyone working in this day and age reaching anything near that level of accomplishment. we no longer live in a civilisation that is able to produce such talent combined with the determination required to take it to its end.
for lack of models to draw from (the NKdeE runs on a no-budget basis as part of its exemplary function) i’m using Erica Lust ‘crowdfunded’ porn movies to er, fleshen up Cranach’s brilliant body shapes. it’s worth every penny the membership bucks and sure, everything that has some customers is ‘crowdfunded’ in some way eventually, but as far as i can tell, the company is doing what it advertises, creating clean and better, near-to-respectable porn. it’s not there yet, but it’s getting there, and that’s none too soon, here on the eve of the birth of the Orribul Oculibus Programmed Wanking Metaverse..
it could do with better scripts and more work on the acting, though and the audio is, in most cases, a purple shining cascade of fatal errors. but the service fills the need. video is a far superior source for drawing compared to foto’s and Lust is doing a great job in adding interviews and such with the actors, so you do get some impression of the actual individual.
all this wonderful new resources won’t keep me from retaining ‘wrong’ lines in my drawing. lines like the one of lady’s thy in this drawing, turning yer stomach with it’s dumb refusal to finish the story it started in an orderly fashion, to be thy as it was supposed to.
i want my ‘signs’ to be defunct, flawed or even utterly misconstrued, i want them to be heretic and hurting and heroic and knowing they are failing and if i possibly can have them see themselves failing right at the very spot where they could have been spot on perfection. i want to see them suffer from being wrong or signifying nothing just like me as i leave the stage, a by far superior idiot to all of them.
yes, it’s in that DSM 5 somewhere, i’m sure. no, i don’t want a cure, thank you.
and each time that i try to draw i am reminded by countless failures that of all the miraculous sights out there, one can only very temporarily represent what one understands of what is visible there, and that by trying to penetrate the thick slimy layer of humanly construed ‘reality’ that has been inflicted on these marvels through crude abstractions of form, colour and line, in the end you only manage to utterly annihilate whatever it was that you saw for the whole of posterity..
well sure, drawing is, as, if my memory serves me right, Giacometti famously stated, quite impossible. plus, my sight’s too poor and i’m way too clumsy and impatient to be any good at the art, but for many years already now, i can not imagine a life without drawing or ‘kliederen’ as i call it in Dutch (= “to daub, mess up”). drawing is an integral part of the predicament.
but now then, finally, i’m feeling quite ready to try and improve on the temperance bit. if ever i succeed in making progress there, wow dude, i’ll start selling my deficiencies of sight as ‘alternate facts’ and call my clumsy errors ‘style’, so every one in town will be talking about how i’m finally drawing like it’s supposed to be done and every female of fortune within range will want their beauty drawn by me like cheques want to be drawn from the bank. all of sight will be my own.
ah hell. i may even start writing Pôetry and call myself an R-tist.
