High Contrast Grey.

My new larger project idea came to me in that hazy area of waking where the state of the mind isn’t asleep, nor awake, and the description of lucid dreaming still doesn’t feel like the right word. The initial idea is for a person to be on the street level at night while up above there is a naked woman at the window, but yet the person below doesn’t notice her. Originally she was going to be smoking, or closing the window/curtains, but as I was working out this idea I decided to take out my Le Jaro tarot deck and one of the cards I drew was of a naked woman from behind. I think that by having her backside appear might help with trying to cancel the idea that she is trying to do it for exhabitionist reasons and make it seem more innocent.

Took a sick day and spent it at my desk painting. I think that this is well enough to turn in for painting tomorrow, although I still feel that it is missing the finishing touches. Like perhaps some feathers and a background, but then again, I never know when to stop. I think it is time to make myself another hot toddy, put on some TOS, and take a nap. *edit. Thanks to Dustin I added the forgotten shadow of the hoop on her thigh.

Continuation. I saw the usage of a thin white line recently and I thought I would give it a try. It seems to have added a much more illustrative look to the piece, so I am not too sure how I like it or not.

A new painting for this weeks painting class. It took me forever to start this one because I kept having ideas but no form come to my mind. Finally I just took one of the photos from my inspiration folder and decided to use that as a figure study which I will then mutate. My plan is for war paint, piercings, and tattoos to blend the old photo with new details. A bit cliché, but I can see where it will evolve to. I have come to see that in my painting classes here in France that the French are all about concept, so as I try to experiment with mediums I am running into not having an answer for when they ask why.

Classes have started up again, although I am still not feeling the realization of that fact. For some reason it seems that none of the classes are interesting this semster and I am having the hardest time trying to figure out which classes to take. Like a psych class where the information is interesting as it talks about the linguistics of language, but is in the third year so I lack all kinds of background in different studies that the other students already have. Dropping names of researchers like rockstars. On the upside, I think I finally found “my bar” in Rennes. Le Sambre. Wood walls. Red velvet. And old pictures all over the walls. The music doesn’t fit, but not everything is perfect. At least it is more just better rock music than something like top 40.

I think that this is the state I will show this for class. I used the pattern from the tie I bought in Paris for the background. I am not too sure how I feel about how it turned out since it isn’t weaved but drawn and painted it seems to loose the industrial feel to it. Also I can’t seem to capture the color of Jessye’s hair at all. I put in some gold streaks  to help show that her hair is red and not brown, but perhaps that will be lost in interpretation.

A painting of Jessye drinking wine from the bottle in our Parisian hotel. Hopefully I will be finished by this Thursday for class. I am wanting to do something with the background but I am not too sure what. Perhaps some patterning and playing with painting and then wiping to build up layers of detail.

These past few mornings have been gorgeous as I watch the sun rise from my window. Of course everytime I see the beautiful colors that are made, like the deep red on the horizon that gently transitions into a firey orange and then a fleeting green, that can almost be easily ignored, before reaching the dark blue that is almost black left over from the night, I have to think of the reactions to these colors by the impressionists and how these vibrant colors are only possible because of the pollution in the air. Although when I bring this up to people, like when sitting in an 8am class, I don’t think they share the same inner turmoil interest. The conflict with how beautiful the colors are but yet knowing that their presence represents something wrong in this world.

Paris on my 24th birthday. We got a gateaux des rois for my birthday cake and I got to wear the crown. My surprise on the inside of the cake was a little green porcelaine cat with brown spots. We followed this up with some apple cidre. Nothing too extravagant, but a lot of fun. I think this is going to be a good age.

Sitting at a café in Montmartre as Jessye finally gets a break and writes a few postcards. Sacre Coeur peeks up above the buildings in the mirror. For as French as this café was, for whatever reason, the two times we went there they were playing Mexican music. The first time we arrived, we stood in the doorway waiting for a table and then the tiled floor opened up and a small elevator with a crate of cola surfaced.

Jessye at our favorite Parisian bar. Coffee and cognac. It was great having her come and visit. It was as if we hadn’t missed a beat while I have been in France and things were just as if we had been together this entire time. In our French bar and café hopping we came up with the pipe dream of taking back the idea of these beautiful French places and opening up an ex-pat French café that also serves alcoholic drinks, like café calva and vin chaud.

I finally finished enough of this painting to be happy enough to show it for my painting final. The professor rubbed his finger over the window to figure out that I cut it out to put the black paper behind, but didn’t really critique it at all. I still did well in the class, but he did comment on how overall I paint in a passé style. So of course I am back to the questioning of; what is contemporary art? When I look up contemporary art trying to find new examples that could inspire my work I instead find art that is abstracted and not really in a direction that I would see as improving or inspiring my style.