Iggy Pop

Godfather of Punk, '80's Style

Iggy Pop

Watercolor and Ink

I was up until 5:30 a.m. last night.  I have been so busy lately and have been away from making art for too long.  I ended up drawing three pictures yesterday, and this one was in the wee hours of the morning.  I was watching Reese Witherspoon in, "WILD" based on Cheryl Strayed's amazing book of the same name.  That movie, and Reece's acting in it, are so incredible.  

I wanted to savor the silence of the night, after non-stop rushing for two weeks.  I want to dive into time, roll around in it's murky silence.  I  had two dogs on the couch with me, both of my hands slowly petting each as I thought about life.  Around 3, I felt compelled to profile another wild human. I love the angles of Iggy's face, just as I love the lines of old people.  So many interesting planes and angles and shadows that youthful faces just don't contain.  I like the deviation from the norm, the lines of life that make someone interesting within and without, making me want to know their stories.  I have one more day to be able to have the heavenly gift of time unfolding without a schedule.  I'll have to be back on one soon enough.

P.S. By the way, here's a link to The NY Times' ArtsBeat article on Cheryl Strayed.  In it, a critic says her book had a "punk spirit!"   O.K., I swear to you, I only saw this right now, the morning after I painted this.  She was successful to the nth degree conveying that punk feeling, because after watching it, I was left with that same feeling and let it come through me as a painting of the great Iggy.

Day 297. Couldn't Get to Sleep

I could not get to sleep last night.  I rolled around in frustration until about 3 a.m. and finally just got up.  I fixed myself some tea and painted until 4:30 a.m.  At that point my right hand was covered with red paint and my left had dried residue of molding paste clinging to it.  I suddenly felt like I could fall over.  And even though thoughts such as, "it probably isn't the best thing to have those pigments and compounds seeping into your system," ran through my mind, I headed straight to bed.

I must say, I was a little frightened when I woke up at 7 a.m. and saw my crimson paw, but I was also relieved to know I wasn't in a Hollywood bed scene in the "Godfather."  Suffice it to say, I had a v-e-r-y long day.

And...even though I was super tired, I did manage to make a quick visit to the grand opening of the White Trash Gallery by White Trash Peg, Et. al.  Here's some snaps.

Me as I head out the door.

Cute, blurry photographer.

Old piece of candy cane that fell out of my coat pocket--first time I wore this since last winter.  A gruesome piece of stickiness that would make a great painting, of course. (-;

Tigger as purse.