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I finished a poster last night and I'm so proud of it, for the composition, beauty and feeling of it (and a surprise you'll read in a paragraph or two :) It has a flaw or two that needs to be fixed, but minor ones.
The only thing I feel guilty about it something I didn't foresee: I posted it because of its beauty and someone "shared" it as an invitation without Candie Tallquist from Candie's Kids in Stanwood seeing it first. I wish I'd seen that coming. She should have been the first to see it, and for that, I am sorry
Sometimes public opinion is that computer artwork is somehow not artwork, that somehow there is less work or less creative work involved. It took 3 days or so to do, about as much as a painting. What people don't know is that everything in the posters I make are "made". I'll get a card and erase the background (the Queens at the top) and then put another Queen into it... turn it around opposite and then do a color over it. The key was created because it was a rusty, wooden looking thing... I ran a style over it, tweaked that and there is the key.
The Eat Me, Drink Me was freeware, untouched, the hats were borrowed and revamped with color and pattern, the keyhole was part of a freebie from one of my favorite design sites (they get rid of their old stuff when they have new to sell). I added the light over the mushroom... even added the pouring tea and the tea in the cup in the middle. And most importantly, right there in the middle is my best creation ever: our son. After erasing his original background, just added some color over him and an action or two and he matches the Alice in Wonderland backdrop. This was so much fun and the biggest blessing is knowing this is what I was created to do, and dear God, I am so grateful.
But it makes me wonder about people's painting processes... and wonder how people can do mass produced objects that take little time. Sure, they like it, but when I do something, I get lost in the creation, the moving, the rearranging, the trying this and that and the color and texture. I love it. It brings me to a world where anything is possible as long as my attention span and tenacity hold up. Whether its oil paint, the acrylic rooster on the easel now, the clay soap-dish or the Mad Hatter poster, the luscious process is something I could roll in, like a dog in a treasured scent.
Every brushstroke is felt in detail, in my bones. The color has the same emotional sensation inside my head/heart as savoring Eggplant Pirogue or Shrimp and Tasso pasta at Copeland's (my favorite dishes).
So, yes, I may get my paintings finished quickly, but I'm actually painting slowly and feeling, absorbing, the experience of it.
So what is the better method? For me, when you're absorbed in the process and loving the flow, the product shows the love that went into it and HAS to be beautiful. Its just the nature of being open and letting the Divine energy flow through you into your creation.
The only thing I feel guilty about it something I didn't foresee: I posted it because of its beauty and someone "shared" it as an invitation without Candie Tallquist from Candie's Kids in Stanwood seeing it first. I wish I'd seen that coming. She should have been the first to see it, and for that, I am sorry
Sometimes public opinion is that computer artwork is somehow not artwork, that somehow there is less work or less creative work involved. It took 3 days or so to do, about as much as a painting. What people don't know is that everything in the posters I make are "made". I'll get a card and erase the background (the Queens at the top) and then put another Queen into it... turn it around opposite and then do a color over it. The key was created because it was a rusty, wooden looking thing... I ran a style over it, tweaked that and there is the key.
The Eat Me, Drink Me was freeware, untouched, the hats were borrowed and revamped with color and pattern, the keyhole was part of a freebie from one of my favorite design sites (they get rid of their old stuff when they have new to sell). I added the light over the mushroom... even added the pouring tea and the tea in the cup in the middle. And most importantly, right there in the middle is my best creation ever: our son. After erasing his original background, just added some color over him and an action or two and he matches the Alice in Wonderland backdrop. This was so much fun and the biggest blessing is knowing this is what I was created to do, and dear God, I am so grateful.
But it makes me wonder about people's painting processes... and wonder how people can do mass produced objects that take little time. Sure, they like it, but when I do something, I get lost in the creation, the moving, the rearranging, the trying this and that and the color and texture. I love it. It brings me to a world where anything is possible as long as my attention span and tenacity hold up. Whether its oil paint, the acrylic rooster on the easel now, the clay soap-dish or the Mad Hatter poster, the luscious process is something I could roll in, like a dog in a treasured scent.
Every brushstroke is felt in detail, in my bones. The color has the same emotional sensation inside my head/heart as savoring Eggplant Pirogue or Shrimp and Tasso pasta at Copeland's (my favorite dishes).
So, yes, I may get my paintings finished quickly, but I'm actually painting slowly and feeling, absorbing, the experience of it.
So what is the better method? For me, when you're absorbed in the process and loving the flow, the product shows the love that went into it and HAS to be beautiful. Its just the nature of being open and letting the Divine energy flow through you into your creation.
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