1/2020 | View of Lunar Years | The Visual Artist and The Technician's Workbench

in #steemartistslast month (edited)

Dear Art lovers, I am sorry I have been a stranger these few months.
I sure felt optimistic about managing my time well during the "high season", of course,

I have failed miserably!

Here I am, weeks behind schedule, still hanging my Christmas stocking!
Of all the things I wanted to do, two good batches of Greeting Cards and a prototype of a Winter Fairy it's all I've managed to fit in.
I will eventually finish the Winter Fairy project.




On the other hand my work bench has been well populated by a variety of wooden creatures, some of which someone's precious heirloom. Since I could not bring more Art and Craft to you, I toke some picture and welcome you all to a glimpse on my work space.





A few of the oldest ones. Between them, the Violin and the Banjo on you right are about 200 years old if not more.
The Uke-banjo on your left is an old but cheaper run of George Formby's signature, the skin is not the original one, it needed a load of TLC.



Young Purple Blood.
Rebuilt + New Heart & 3-way (mid way) kill switch.



Night fallen, was all an other story. I entered Behemoth and stayed there while finishing touches were taking place on my Lunar Years.





My series of thirty-three (XXXIII) drawing is a Log/Record of a whole year of state of mind and spirit, probably of brewing events kept within for about 9 years or so.
Anyhow, throughout 365 days I have "overwritten" a bunch of old believes or perceptions I had about myself.
It was not difficult to keep my spiritual-affair to myself within myself.
Actually, I had to force yours truly to be eloquent about it, I have to admit though, it felt liberating.

I've never doubted my path, I received confirm about when I came across

Love After Love


The time will come when,
with elation you will greet yourself arriving at your own door,
in your own mirror and each will smile at the other's welcome,
and say,
sit here.
Eat.

You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine.
Give bread.
Give back your heart to itself,
to the stranger who has loved you all your life,
whom you ignored for another,
who knows you by heart.

Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,
the photographs,
the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.

Sit.

Feast on your life.

by Derek Walcott.



So I did, I have feasted on my life exploring the world within me, now it's the time to speak about it and give it colour.

Nothing will come to you if you are not in need for my words.
In my case I believe that in whichever direction I wanted to strive, I had to find or re-discover myself first.

Artistically speaking, I have achieved my personal goals for the time been, I can control the line to my satisfaction.
The game between geometric shapes and free hand drawing flows smoothly, the chiaroscuro seems natural enough and has a fair amount of expression where wanted.

So, may your artwork be an inborn vision first, sustain it by observation and research.
Be kind to yourself and each other, my very best wishes.




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