Michelangelo’s drawings at the Courtauld gallery are intimate encounter with an artist in love | Art and design | The Guardian
I really want to see this when I have a bit of spare cash. Next month hopefully.
I really want to see this when I have a bit of spare cash. Next month hopefully.
I’ve rediscovered my blog. I’m sorry for two things:
I’m having a bit of a creative surge at the moment. It’s only got a few directions at the moment, two or three projects in motion. Only one of them is a traditional art endeavor, the other two are more esoteric and although I’m excited I’m also very nervous about explaining them or showing them off so publicly.
The language I used to use to voice my ideas has long been lost to time and it’s going to be a while before I’m confident enough to express my thought processes or defend my implementation.
I think it’s going to be a long time until I show much here apart from the odd sketch, couplet or literary twitch.
The battery in the kitchen clock is almost drained. The second hand, blood red on the pale face, beats weakly like the heart of a dying bird.
The confident tick of its pulse lies the time to me.
Do you ever just sit back in your chair and think to yourself “What am I doing? How did I get to the point in my life that circumstances led me to doing this precise thing at this time?”. continue reading…
I’ve just had one of those moments.
The sky was black with locust with ten thousand hands outstretched to choke us
All I wanted was a friend and not to be judged. Seems I got the reverse and then lost it all anyway.
Social networks are hard work. I’ve currently closed off all external access to the virtual world; Facebook, Twitter, Buzz, LiveJournal; all closed, deactivated or deleted.
All these reflections of yourself staring back, all facets of yourself yet containing none of the depth or personality of the original. A pale imitation of the whole, frozen stares from a thousand broken mirror pieces.
In the hope of reassembling myself into a cohesive whole again I’ve left the social.net sphere.
Stretched too thin and available too often.
Like vicious birds of prey the lies of the past return to hound the present until the soft core is an open wound for those to see.
There’s no fool like an old fool and only one person lonelier than this one.
I never did university. I never went traveling. I went from art-school straight into the design and web world which is the space I’ve inhabited ever since and let my artistic streak atrophy until I’m left with this vestigial tail. I need to work that phantom limb back into a usable prehensile state again (he said stretching the metaphor to breaking point). continue reading…