Sketch smeared yesterday. The furrows of the pencil are felt on the sheet below.
My madness continues to haunt, me and the next. But this is old story for the period, better accept it and try to move forward.
Next, as the project we are trying to put into port, an illustrated history. Unfortunately they are in full crisis
style. Unfortunately yes
is a phase that every beginning of a new story, it takes me. I hope to end pain.
In the meantime I went back the urge to take a brush and paint using oil paints. I want a canvas underneath. I want to feel alive in color pulsing veins of the plot.
I want that electricity that vibrates in every touch of brush, to cross back.
I can not wait.
0 comments:
Post a Comment