- My art room is a Stygian pit.
- I once again discovered why I should never have been allowed to be in the same room with chocolate cereal, milk, and a bowl, with or without a spoon.
- Donald Trump.
Here’s a picture.
Here’s a picture.
When you have a lot of important stuff to do, like putting dishes in the dishwasher, researching hideous diseases you might (probably) have, or writing down “Call Linoleum Guy about Thursday,” (because unfortunately the not-yet-researched disease is unlikely to do away with one BEFORE Thursday) sometimes you just gotta woman up, get out the markers, and go to town in your sketchbook. As you can see, Ms. AHH is using a number of classic thematic elements, such as the blue flowers common to Iznik pottery (I should know what they are called), mandalas, eyes, snakes (love drawing snakes), pyramids, suns, dots, bricks with what looks like a creepy pair of eyes in them, dots, stripes, teardrops and raindrops, xs and os, what looks like a game of tic tac toe kind of, and many other things that add up to um, a battle between the Apollonian and the Dionysian elements of life? Yes, indeed, I’m sure that’s exactly what it means, and I’m the artist, so I should know. But actually, art is not for the artist alone. It is a dance between the artist and viewer/critic. Writers can blab everything they want about their art, their horrible childhoods and everything else. But the artist must remain mute, or at least cryptic, and let the dance of interpretation begin. For the moment one puts one’s art out into the world, it belongs to the world, too. Especially when one puts it on the freaking INTERNET. So, friends, interpret away.
Writing Prompt: What’s a piece of art that just pulls you in?
One of my favorite daydreamy activities
I have been drawing mandalas in my journal since I was a teenager. I always wondered why the act of putting a dot or a diamond or a flower or some small shape in the center of a piece of paper and then letting designs flow out from that center was such a comfort, but I think there is something satisfying about how a simple shape can become a pattern if it’s repeated, and that there’s something about patterns that seems more and more important and human to me as time goes on. Of course mandalas have been made as objects of contemplation for thousands of years. They are part of the Buddhist tradition, the Christian tradition (as in rose windows, haloes, etc.) I actually think the secret of the power of mandalas is that that putting that confident little dot in the center is like poking a hole into another world,a world where creativity can come through, pattern by tiny pattern, until it weaves a hole. Here are a few examples.