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Ink And Pen - Blog Posts
POV: You come back home tired and forceless wishing only to sit a little in calm silent dark without being disturbed by any soul. But there is someone home, and they want to talk to you, to chat, to gossip, to rattle. Immediately.
The healing hand.
Some time ago I found a Huffpost interview with Jackie Fuchs of The Runaways where she's telling about sexual assault she had suffered from band's manager Kim Fowley on one of her early days as a Runaway. I drowned in Jackie's tale for a while, and it struck me hard. But I also was very inspired with her strenght and vitality. And, as a result, felt a will to draw her little portrait.
The witching hour phantasia
TW: depression.
Almost every day of my life I have thoughts which are so exhausting. Every single one of them is able to plunge me in a dark.
I've heard from some people that it may be just a phase - unwillingness to do anything is not eternal, and one day art block will surely end. On the opposite, others warn that hesitation is dangerous and without treatment it may get worse. Besides, sentences on illustration concern, I guess, not only art crisis, but mental health in general.
That's why I desided to write down my sickly toxic thoughts and draw this art on their base. Maybe I was hoping they will leave me alone after that at least for some time. Have to admit I really felt in my persistant outer grey mist a glimmering of something lucid and hopeful, especially strong during the art work itself.
I'm glad I found this way of self-help. Such thoughts had better be on paper. Not in my head, thanks, no.
Communicating with people I often stay closed to them, showing only that side of myself which consists of socially approved, conventional features, and hiding the rest behind this layer of normality. Of course, there are exceptions - those ones who are more trustworthy - but even with them some of my thoughts remain unspoken as well as certain intentions stay undone because of the fear of hostile misunderstanding.
During most of interactions I carefully choose my words, keep my emotions under lock and key, fit my appearance to certain standarts (to be honest, this is what I always do, unfortunately), because I foresee that otherwise I will look like a weirdo.
But in thoughts I'm counting minutes till the moment when I'm alone. When I can stop thinking of how I look, erase the smile away from the face and simply become myself.
Sometimes the song is so damn good you just have to illustrate it.
https://lono.bandcamp.com/track/--5
Mötley Crüe after a show. Shout At The Devil Era. Part II.
Antidepressant overdose
Complete project is here: https://www.behance.net/gallery/76409795/Cover-art-and-lyric-book-for-the-music-album
Dove personifying a metal poser
Complete project is here: https://www.behance.net/gallery/76409795/Cover-art-and-lyric-book-for-the-music-album
Mötley Crüe after a show. Shout At The Devil era. Part I.
Nikki under a blood moon
Sleaze metal quintessence
It was too early.
That feeling when you madly want to talk to the dead rock musician
Yearning for the glammy 80s
Glam metal quintessence:
Look like women, talk like men, play like motherfuckers, as Dee Snider said one day.