learn to throwWhat starts in proud parenting ends in my precious tablet stylus (the thing I used to create my redonkulous drawings, straight onto the computer… complete with undo and erase, which I might add is moderately important for someone devoid of artistic ability) being unceremoniously launched from our 8th floor balcony into the abyss of vindictive spiky thorn bushes that have been so delicately care for by the well-intentioned, but evil, ground staff. I searched for all of 30 seconds before the deathvillias (or whatever they are, who deliberately grows plant with spikes?) were declared victors and I skulked home. Without my stylus I have resorted to using an actual pen and actual paper, two things which I remember from my distant past school days and have lost touch with since the 90s. I’m treating this as an opportunity for self-improvement, however, and spent the majority of the day hanging out with a local artists group, sipping mint tea and staring at trees while rubbing charcoal on my oversized art sketch book. I wont subject you to that creation, but lets just say that the result was my interpretation of emptiness on a moonless night (ie. I got mad when my tree looked more like a squirrel than a tree so I used up half of my over-priced charcoal stick to colour my entire page black – Brilliant!)


Leave a Reply