It's my birthday, and I can be as ridiculous as I want.

Actual daydreamed conversation with Michael Jackson
(who really does have the same birthday as me):

Hey!... Michael!

Kristy!... It's great to see you!

I know! It's great to see you, too.

Wow... (giggle) it's been awhile. I haven't been in one of your daydreams for... ages.

Well, you know how I get sometimes... there's a lot of stuff running around in my head. Bills, boys, household chores... I forget to check in.

But you had to today. (Wink, big smile)

Yeah. I did have to today. (Big smile)

Happy Birthday, Kristy. (Hug)

Happy Birthday, Michael.

Whirls & curls and whirls of curls

Last night, after being told that today would be a snowday, I had some strange need to sketch my hair. I really could have done without the trouble of drawing the face, to tell the whole truth, but there it is anyway. I just happened to have some really fun curls that were whirling around in all different directions, and it was kind of fun how they framed my face. If you notice, the waves on one side of my face match the waves on the other side. I never noticed before last night! I know some of you may not think that it looks like I had fun drawing my whirly curls, by the rather vacant expression I've drawn... but let me assure you that smiling continuously for upwards of an hour can be taxing on the cheek muscles. That's why I try my darndest to smile with my eyes. Although, I guess I wasn't trying too hard to do that this particular time.

A former version of Kristy

Before this image erases itself completely through the destructive forces of intra-notebook page friction, I thought it a good idea to post it here. I made it four years ago when I first arrived in Madrid and was having an awfully hard time adjusting to the task of communicating in Spanish... I became nearly mute for awhile. Estoy tímida aquí. I am shy here. It was a lot better-looking (clearer, less-blurry lines and shapes, more white space) when I first drew it, of course. I wanted to save it because I've always thought it had a kind of arresting sadness. A little surprising, even. But maybe only because it's like making eye contact with a past self. A former version of Kristy.

Also note: Partially-drawn, black Old Navy flip-flop on my foot.

Inspired by other blogs

I'll get there. To that place where inspiration and action wed happily and have 2.5 beautiful little children in their white-picket- fenced yard with garden gnomes and wooden cut-outs of old ladies in polka-dot bloomers bending over to weed. They may even have an L-shaped sofa or a magazine rack next to the toilet in their bathroom. It's a long stretch--and I'm sure you've even forgotten what I'm talking about because so have I--but I'll get there.

As far as simplicity goes, this character was not too forced. Nice and easy. Something that would only get better with repetition to iron out kinks and confusion, I'd imagine.

Not new, per se...

I would love a different human subject than my own face, but, well, this way I don't have to ask anyone to pose for me for three hours.

I painted this a while ago. It might have been this fall, but I can't be entirely sure. At any rate, it looks a lot better and darker when I'm holding it in my hand than when it's scanned in and staring at me blankly from the screen. For one thing, it is impossible to see the thickness of the paint, the sweeping brush-stroke marks, the imperfections of the surface. That kinda makes the piece when it admittedly doesn't look as much like me as the drawing does (see two posts prior). Paint is a little less controllable for me proportion wise.

This was more about achieving drastic lighting than anything else. Well, that, and using purple shadows and funky colors.

Meeting my muse

Art therapy anyone? This is the first anything that I've sketched in awhile. I forget how addictive and calming it can be to curl up with a good set of pencils and just draw. And then I find myself tweaking and adjusting and erasing three hours after I begin, wonderfully oblivious to the clock. And suddenly realizing how tired I will be the next day at work.

I furrowed my brow only in the last twenty minutes of drawing, since, well, you all know what moms tell you about your eyes staying permanently crossed? I don't like to push my luck with these types of things.