I’ve had this concept floating around in my head for months. I eventually came up with this, which I like:
But I’ve had a rainbow version of the above stubby-legged pony saved as a draft ever since. I came back to it last week, and, armed with some of my newly practiced lettering skills, tried my hand at it again.
This one has a bit more of the color and sense of movement I was looking for.
I’m feeling pretty tired/run down/bleh lately; worried the anemia is creeping back, although that seems unlikely. It’s probably the weather, which has been unusually cold and rainy and lacking in sun. I’ll be heading to the Phoenix, Arizona area for a work trip in mid June, where forecasted temperatures promise to remind me to appreciate my home state’s moderate climate.
Until then, I’m sticking to an exercise routine, making time for doodling, meditating, and taking advantage of what little sun I can find. Here are more Procreate Pocket experiments. I’m slow with the creative work but still making progress on new stuff, little by little.
This is a recreation of a painting I did during Paint Night at a Grand Meetup several years ago (the original is here). Procreate lets you create these neat playbacks so you can see how many times I backtracked and changed things.
I like the glow effect in the background. I’m not happy with the leaves, though. The beauty of digital painting is I can always go back and redo them, no mess. 🙂
This month marks four years since Dad passed. I don’t like to linger on thoughts of his death too often; it’s easy to let myself sink into sadness. But sometimes the universe likes to nudge me, knowingly, and sometimes I listen.
You taught me the courage of stars before you left, How life carries on, endlessly, even after death, With shortness of breath, you explained the infinite, How rare and beautiful it is to even exist.
Sleeping at Last, “Saturn”
Gwen asked me for a “lullaby song” to go to sleep tonight, and this one came to mind. It always reminds me of Dad; how we’d stand outside during meteorological events, watching the sky together.
That feeling of smallness against the vast canopy of darkness and stars and planets is comforting — knowing that we’re all temporary space dust, that my problems don’t even register on a grand scale, that I don’t need to have all the answers. Contemplating infinity imparts perspective; it’s like meditation, but all I have to do is look up.
Thanks, Dad, for reminding me to look up once in a while.
I love it when I first get into a new technique or practice, in that early stage where I’m experimenting and figuring it out without the pressure to know what I’m doing or to make something perfect. I suppose the secret is bringing that mentality to whatever I’m working on, whether I’m new to the technique or not.
These came about from doodling on my phone while the TV was on in the background (Maine Cabin Masters, for the curious).
An update on my self-punishment: I gave up on trying to color the interior of every element and went with the ones that were already mostly enclosed, leaving the rest to line art. The result, in three colorways: