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| It is just a compass, leading us to death. |
The arts, they're back... Too much pent-up ink in me. I feel the whole spectrum of grey, dreary emotions...
...Anything drawn is a release.
I decided to revisit a piece that I had done years ago. It was done in pencil. I redid it this time, in watercolour (hence why it is called "...Pt. 2.1" -- and 2.1 because I had done another piece after the original). Without really intending to, I like how the clock resembles a crescent moon, and how the light comes in from the top right. The way the light strikes makes the ink look like it is simultaneously forming and fading into. It is both the passing of a day, and a start of a new one... I couldn't quite decide how to stylize the clock hands... I ended up drawing the hour hand with a sort of "nature" theme, and the minute hand, as a compass, for it travels constantly. The sepia tone was a happy accident when I was taking photos of it. I was going to correct it so it's completely black and white, but found that I quite like it as it is. So I only colour-corrected the bottom left, to show more of a transition, a dissipation...
I probably should have plotted this out more with a pencil before I went in with the paint because *tilts head* it looks wonky to me, the more I look at it. *shifty eyes* Shhh...
