Valentine's Day Blows: Years Past

For a little review, I have included all of the years of anti-valentines that I have concocted over the years, starting with 2003 and marching proudly forward to the present. Unfortunately, I could never market any of these unless I actually captured the images myself (instead of stealing them from the internet), or drew or painted my own scenes. Actually, I prefer the term "appropriating" to stealing; it's what the Dadaists and Pop artists used.

Valentine's Day Blows 2003
This was the one that started it all.
There is something funny about Dizzy Gilespie.

Valentine's Day Blows 2003 Part Deux.
But then I thought a kid playing trombone would "blow" more.
It's more likely to sound bad.
And the kid is more likely to not want to be playing it.

Valentine's Day Blows 2004

Really, what blows more than a hurricane?

Valentine's Day Blows 2005
This is the one that makes me the most proud.

Valentine's Day Blows 2006
Colds certainly blow. We pass germs out like valentines.
I felt pretty clever after I made this one, too.


Valentine's Day Blows 2007
This one is actually also one that makes me exceedingly proud.
We happened to have a huge snow storm that year,
so people weren't leaving flower bouquets on windshields.
They were finding windshields.


Valentine's Day Blows 2008
Quality dipped a lot this year.
This guy's face pretty much sums up my feelings
on the effort involved in this last card.

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.

The word "jalopy"

The word-play is the best part. The drawing... well, the drawing only really becomes fun for me when it's clear that I'm going to like how it turns out. So much for "life's a journey, not a destination." Sorry, Steven Tyler.

Mis amigos, los pajaritos

Left to my own devices, I sometimes gravitate towards drawing. Sometimes. And so it happened, that one day this summer in el Parque Tayrona in Santa Marta, Colombia (undoubtedly the most beautiful place I have been in my entire life), that I encountered some pajaritos (little birds) worth sketching. They were a little ugly and scrawny and crow-like, but that's what made them so appealing.


The only problem was that they kept moving. They turned their heads from side to side like paranoid pedestrians crossing a busy street. And then they all flew away and didn't come back. So I eventually settled on drawing the wooden parrot hanging from the ceiling of the breakfast hut.


Here is the breakfast hut.


And here is my breakfast. Ten-thousand Colombian pesos... which is like five dollars. But it was really damn good fruit. Banana, watermelon, pineapple, cantaloupe, and papaya. Excellent drawing fuel, for sure.

New sketchbook, new stuff

In case you thought I had completely left this blog for dead, I hadn't. Or maybe you thought I died. I'll tell you, if these past few months haven't killed me, nothing will. No, I've been very much alive, in fact, but I simply had to pretend that I didn't exist for awhile, while I was finishing up this last semester of grad school. After I emailed that last research paper, I could feel the weight lift off my shoulders. It was absolutely amazing. I've been floating around, humming Christmas songs, smiling at strangers, making small talk with inanimate objects... The new-found freedom that no homework brings has made me so happy I could burst. And my lovely roomie bought me a new sketchbook.

On the first page, I found myself drawing a hug. I say "found myself" + artistic action + -ing because I never really plan what I'm going to do before I put my pencil, pen, writing implement, or what-have-you to the paper. All I can say about the choice of subject matter is that I really like hugs. Everything about them. Really. (Unless the other person smells.) They pop up in my drawing sometimes. Okay, often. Pretty often. Maybe I'll start up a series. At any rate, I don't know these people. They just happened to wander out of my pencil tip.


On page four of the new sketchbook, I wound up drawing a girl whose face just wouldn't come out the way I wanted. In fact, it was mucking up the whole rest of the otherwise nice image. So I took the sucker out. I didn't worry about it being pretty at first, I just wanted to stop looking at it and get it off the page. I now happen to like the drawing a whole lot. I think it's got much more character without a head.


... which then got my roommate posing the idea that I start drawing pictures of people with funny objects instead of heads. Has this been done? I'm sure it has. Maybe not for the same reasons... But it makes sense, you know? I feel so much more confident drawing when I don't have to worry about a head. It's like women's fashion. We're always covering what we don't want you to see.

Oodles of Doodles

The most creative I have been visually as of late, has been by way of my occasional(1) travels through La-la Land and Doodlesville. Okay, well, I listen while I draw, you know. I honestly do. But far be it from me to suppress a drawing implement in my own hand. Let it go, I say. Let it go... And lest you think that this is evidence of me being bored in class, allow me to assure you that I am the biggest linguistics nerd ever, so I actually love learning this stuff.



Someday, I'm sure there will be a way of combining my two loves: Words and creativity. For now, I must make do with sentence trees and funny words and earrings that keep trying to fall out of friends' ears.

My student actually did send me a few more postcards that are not posted here.

(1) Travel through La-la Land is less "occasional" than it is "habitual."

Another postcard

I didn't receive a postcard last week from my student, so that was a little disappointing, but I think I'll make it. I still made mine, though, and I had a lot of fun drawing this one. I had to make up all the lighting out of my head because I was sitting in a cafe and sipping iced tea, and not staring at an open window with cuddling mice. And, well, I moved to a secondary location after cafe number one closed for the night. Cafe two is open for an additional couple of hours, so I had a decaf coffee with soy (not iced this time), finished up the drawing, and dove back into my new sudoku addiction. I have a very addictive personality. Someday, I hope to be addicted to drawing. Or painting. Or [insert other creative outlet here].

For real. I hope so.