What is it about a guy that can stylize AND turn a form that makes a girl be like:
I am officially searching for my fellow unicorns.
Unlike many artists that I know, I grew up longing to fit in. Standing out and seeming to be unique always isolated me. Am I alone here? In a culture where individuality is not only encouraged, but prized, I’ve also been unique in having these feelings as well.
Being an even split between an INTJ and an INFJ, and also between a harmony-seeking idealist and an independent thinker apparently makes me a mentally deformed mutant. It’s possibly also why I have so many interests and jobs.
Sometimes these different worlds collide. Perhaps not too many people who enjoy my illustrations know that I also do things in fashion. Mostly hair/ makeup & styling. When I’m working on a set, or thinking of an outfit, or styling someone, I tend to sketch out the ideas and I’m endlessly grateful that I don’t have to hire an illustrator for projects.
I’m still looking for other unicorns.
The most recent installment of the “Hotel California” series. This is #4, finger painted on the iPhone via the art studio app.
“Welcome to the Hotel California
Such a lovely place (Such a lovely place)
Such a lovely face
Plenty of room at the Hotel California
Any time of year (Any time of year)
You can find it here”
It’s a basic human need to be validated and supported. Yet those seem to be the very things we refuse most and the needs we despise most in others. It’s frightening to me that people are judged (meaning condemned) for having insecurities. Who doesn’t have them? Insecurities are wounds from a lack of validation. So judging them is a lot like hating someone for having a bleeding gash. Humans are evil, no?
So what keeps me interacting with them? Moments that remind me that we are all just mushy piles of goo. What was this couple beyond the glass talking about, so intensely and yet tenderly? Something about their moment, as far away and separated from me as they were, grabbed me and kept me long enough for me to draw them. He leaned in, she swept her hair behind her ear, he looked down, she took a drink.
“On a dark desert highway, cool wind in my hair
Warm smell of colitas, rising up through the air”
Was it the haze of being bed-ridden that made me begin this series? Perhaps the fascination I have with this new app? And why did I blog #3 first? Who knows? Here’s the first one and all of my novice attempts at painting with Art Studio on my iPhone with my finger.