Process Report May 22, 2018

Art, art, art this week for me, CB.
To begin the week, I did 5 more and less complicated sketches of the artwork for the “Fire” story, trying to figure out a mandala/flower of life way to draw two of them. I think I’m going to use the flower of life theme quite often, as a few months ago I decided it would be a perfect form to lay out the Ahzhirit alphabet (amiinu) on, based on the number of vowels and consonants that I’ve created for this language.
It’s been a really significant symbol for me for many, many years, finding its way into all manner of meaning for me, from wild spiritual theories to connecting to one of my many names. If I could get a tattoo on the bottom of my foot, it would be that. In brown. See? 
So, yeah. Flower of Life, or something  like it, coming soon.

Also got an idea for a logo, at least for this particular novel. Lots of staring at pictures of white wolves and gorgeous black women from the Congo. Oh my goddess. I messed a bit with a couple of photos in the photo editor. There is much more to do on that, but I have a little better handle on how I want it, and every little bit counts, eh?  

On Friday I did the preliminary backgrounds for 3 of the six paintings for the Fire story.
I call this one “Fire. Fire. Nothing but Fire”.


This one?  “Trying really damn hard to be Fire but just not making it”.


In fact, I was so worried about this “not exactly fire” fire painting that I had worrisome dreams about it all Friday night!

The third was a grassland beneath a big, unusually successful, acrylic-pour sky. Wow. I loved it! There was a lot to do yet on each of them, but had to wait a few days for the fluid part to dry.

On the weekend I spent several hours looking at European cave art, Australian aboriginal painting, and some modern Inuit and Native American art, and then, dear lord, I tried to copy it with my own hand holding a pencil. I’m not kidding, those people did, and do, some amazing shit. There were no stone-age fine arts degrees but they did not do unskilled art, let me tell you. It looks like I am gonna have to settle with being profoundly influenced by them, because they were, and are, brilliant beyond my abilities.

Come Monday morning, I saw that the grassland painting with that beautiful sky had cracked as it dried, making it unusable. This is not unusual, but, deep sigh, disappointing, nonetheless. Dangit.

The fire paintings will still work, if I can overcome my bad-dream fear of the “not exactly fire” one. Can I make it hottt, baby?

And on to another week!

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