Never rest on Sundays, the sun doesn’t: II
Posted: November 17th, 2008 | Author: Sean | Filed under: Finished Works, Projects, Sketches, Thoughts | Tags: charcoal, dad, drawings, friends, hers project | No Comments »
Today was a very productive day. I did six new drawings, most of which I’m relatively pleased with. I did two drawings which apply to the Hers project. These are drawings I really enjoy doing because of the strong connection I have with these people. A month or so ago I was focusing on issues of a war because I thought that maybe personal issues were not as significant as collective issues. I still think this is true, but damn this is a lot more fun than drawing people dying. Some other posts on the Hers project can be found here or here.
These drawings are quite reflective and I enjoyed the flavor mix of nostalgia, discursiveness, and productivity. This is a drawing of a very good friend of mine jamming. Today was the first step towards stepping out of the female focused drawings to a wider range of influential people in my life.
Today I took an emotional blow, broke down, and cried for the first time in a long while. I don’t want to go into any details, but it involves my father and some very poor choices. I don’t know where he is, if he is ok, and very little about what has been going on with him. What little I do know really saddened me. Drawing this allowed me to vent a bit and I think for the first time I am truely understanding how and why artists express their personal lives. It is amazing the transitions in peoples lives, how far they can rise or fall within short spans of time. Wherever you are dad I will not (“do or do not there is no ‘try’”) make the mistakes you have made, but mostly I hope you are well.
I mentioned in an 
Suddenly, as had happened so many other times, I was above the cloud line. From up here I could see, from up here I knew. I was on top of a mountain and on another peak miles away I could see her clearly. Up here one might think it would be cold, but no, quite the opposite. I pretended to ignore her, but my sight was too clear and I knew too much. I wanted her and she wanted me, or maybe she was just drunk. I waved to her and she gestured for me to come closer. I tried to jump from my mountain top to hers. I flew soaring higher and higher. Gravity eventually pulled me down. Racing forward I slammed into her and we both tumbled off her mountain. Later I woke battered and bruised from the fall, she lay beside me eyes shut. I couldn’t move. Was I hurt? Was she injured?
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