There is a space in my Benjamin Moore Frappe (aka beige) kitchen begging for attention. Over a stove is not exactly the place for a nice print, though. Grabbing a pic of a journal drawing and without over-thinking for once, I ordered a 24×36 canvas.
That was during the holidays. So, the UPS guy walking up the driveway today was a nice surprise. So is the pop of color and the play against colorful teapots. And blowing something up, changing its scale, is eye-opening.
Most of my drawings are small scale — 5×8 or 9×12 — occasionally 11×14 (like the original for this). Making myself move from the insular safety of a journal to canvas on the wall forces me to really look at it and see potential beauty in sharing the personal.
I can also see how random doodles & squiggles with a fat Sharpie can evolve. And how health can turn to illness instantly, in one phone call. Done prior to a tumor removal and biopsy, many of the doodles represent pills.
One set of pills gave me a 101-degree fever and chills. That’s me with the rosy cheeks. Shivering spurred on the doodles and coloring them (with Caran D’Ache NeoColor II pastels) helped me pass the time while I waited for my system to clear the culprits.