My drawings are ultimately created by mistakes. I never pencil first and never erase my errors, I instead let them guide me. If a line veers off in the wrong direction (which happens frequently as I draw very fast) I don’t give up and start again, I run with it, I shape it, I fix it, I mould it into something else. For example this illustration evolved because I fucked up her torso and had to give her a backpack to make it look right which then progressed into what you now see. In fact all these drawings emerged because I ended up trying to rectify a pen misfire. These finished products were never my intention as I never have one but I believe sub-consciously they were lurking in my brain and so what I tend to do is splice a few pen marks onto the paper and see if I can hoist out something from the depths of mind like a fisherman with a hook.
I truly believe it is our mistakes that make us the people we are, not our successes. Our fuck ups are what drive us to be better and so we should not live in fear of them happening, we should embrace them, welcome them, thank them for the opportunity to teach us and make us more than we were. And that is why I like to leave my mistakes in. This is why I would never personally want to draw with an ipad or whatever. I know you can get amazing results but everything comes out perfect..and who wants that?
Hope you’ve enjoyed this ink filled experience. This is actually going to my last drawing post as am feeling a lot better so gonna get back to my photography and hit the streets of Laandan town once more…normal service will resume!
I lost a sketchbook on a train recently, and all the drawings this week are reconstructions of the characters that disappeared with that book. I was upset at first as hate losing work but thought fuck it, I’m not going to mourn their loss, I’m just going to redo every one. My creations will live again! Mwah ha haaa!
And yet inevitably they all turned out completely different to how they were originally and instead new characters were born, which you now get to see. Is there a moral to this story? I feel like there’s one in there somewhere…let me know if you find it. And if anyone finds my sketchbook can you let me know too please?
Some characters this week from the world of nightlife..ah, how I miss it so. The sights, the sounds, the smells, the people, the energy..they are all very different to their daytime counterparts. Everything just feels more exciting under cover of darkness and I know we were designed to rise with the sun and sleep when it’s gone but I always felt I only really came alive at night…but for now I have to be patient and know that one day or rather one night I will return…
For the record this is balloon head man. Born with a balloon for a head, born to party……
