Whatever More

Aaaaand here’s another batch of these unholy trees or rocks or candies or whatever they are.

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After months of what seemed like a hopeless, Pyrrhic war with depression and anxiety, I snapped completely out of it yesterday and I can’t explain why. Nothing had changed in my life in any positive way – I just wasn’t under water anymore. I could breathe again.

The only thing of note that actually happened yesterday was that my seasonal allergies finally kicked in. That’s hardly a trigger for positive, upward motion is it?

And yet there it is, and here I am.

It’s like having spent months locked in the darkest, hottest, most boring room you can imagine; and then *boot*, you’re outdoors in the breeze again with the world moving like a carnival around you.

A jug of cold water instead of warm vinegar. A skull made of open windows and not smoked iron.

Today I’m left scratching my head, wondering what happened.

 

In the hour of it happening, my mind was once again flooded with all the projects I wanted to get back to, and a sort of second-chance kind of gratitude that I could now remember what it was like to be a person again.

It’s frustrating in that whilst in that state of depression, you can’t even comprehend happiness, joy, or anything beyond the oven-like intensity of it. Now that I’m out again (at least for a day) I can see horizons I’d forgotten existed.

I’m inspired again. My blindfolds are shed and ankles cut loose from the church-bell that I left somewhere under the waves.

I’m not one to look gift horses in the mouth, so I’ve been busy all day and night making plans, smelling roses, and sighing heavy sighs of relief. Like a fugitive, I’ve been running to put distance between myself and whatever wants to throw me back in.

 

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Meanwhile, my sketchbooks continue to fill up with this tree-like nonsense.

I’ll keep this journal of mine updated as plans and art continue to pour out. In the mean-time, I’m looking forward to whatever day I find tomorrow.

Sketchdrop: More or Less

I’m still exploring the organic, maze-like surfaces of trees – and in the process I’ve gone further in the direction of abstraction.

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In one case, I tried turning stumps into moons. There was something about the way the knots and layers of bark were coming together that reminded me of craters.

Some of these drawings were done in a group setting with friends. Others done while swilling coffee at the neighbourhood diner.

Oh, and here’s a bonus drawing of Rodin’s great sculpture in red pencil. As perhaps my last post might explain, I’ve been lost in thought, and this seemed – at the time – to be the best way to express heat and the muscular struggle and weight of thought without actually admitting anything.

I’ve really got to stop being so oblique. It’s one of my most frustrating qualities.

The collection of these grows steadily, and again, I find myself with the material for a legitimate show in the works. Once I have a venue, I’ll put them on display and make them available for sale.