Mucho Mucha (with a dash of Da Vinci and Bernini)

An art dump of some practice work from this month. Haven't had much time to do original stuff, so I end up copying out of my books and whatnot. Art history knowledge has its perks.

Also made me realize my gummy eraser is so used up it's more of a smudging device now. Time to buy a new one.

Twenty-Four

My birthday was last week, the day before Thanksgiving. Since it always falls on the same week as Thanksgiving, my friends are usually out of town or with their families so I spend it with my sister. Dinner and drinks.

No parties, no presents. And lately, since I've started working in a bakery, no cake because I've gotten sick of it.

But something different did happen this year. I happened to be working and word got around about my birthday. Or rather, one very loud friend of my mother decided to run down the entire bakery and deli to announce it.

Later, one of the managers brought me this cactus.

And then the bistro area broke out into song.

After I got over the initial shock, I smiled and decided it was a good year.

Music Blend - Kishidan

It sparkles down, the desktop was our stage
Those jewel like days are unending
I tell my fellow students (all right) to shout from their chests

"Too fast to live, too young to die!"

This band.

It is my favorite band.

Kishidan is Japanese "yankee" rock band. "Yankee" in this case means a delinquent youth often in the style of greasers in the 50's, complete with pompadour, leather jackets, and motorcycles. They somehow manage to have an endearingly dorky (and occasionally embarrassing) stage presence but at the same time remain completely sincere and heartfelt about their music. I think that combination really moved me and made me into a loving fan.



I could go into a lot of other reasons why I like them so much, (like coming-of-age nostalgia, burning spirit, goofy dances, awesome hair, and a loving disregard to a dignified image...) but really it's because they are fun. I want to be friends with them and hope they have all the good things life has to offer.

Long story short, they are silly and I love them.

Daytrip

Since my sister's wedding is coming up, I haven't had much time for myself and art. Paintbrushes and charcoal had to be stored away so that futons could be rolled out for out of town guests. All free time was now dedicated to decorations and desserts.

But right before the sudden rush, I spent a whole day completely immersed in drawing and me-time.

The morning was pleasantly slow as I headed to the museum, taking Marta so I wouldn't have to think about anything while I traveled. An empty head is a luxury nowadays.

The short walk from the station to the entrance was a nice wake-up call, the air brisk and misty. I got my ticket and sketch pass, using my member pass for the last time since it was expiring the next day. It reminded me that exactly a year ago I had been coming here regularly not only for school but just to waste time after classes.

The Da Vinci exhibit was breath-taking. It was composed mostly of his drawings and some sculptures based on them. Being close enough to see the glint of the impression the stylus made on the paper me realize very suddenly that this was real thing. I'd be lying if I said I didn't almost cry.

Afterwards I went around my usual haunts, seeing which pieces had changed or moved. But my favorite place was always in front of the Medea statue. She has a very comfy leather seat placed just-so in front of her so that I can kick up my feet and draw her for hours, as she looks down in apparent disapproval.


The lined paper is because, in my morning daze, I forgot a proper sketchbook so I made do with my work notebook. So now she sits alongside a list of what cake slices and brownies to put out for the following Saturday.

But still, for being terribly rusty, I enjoyed re-learning drawing through her. I opted for not using my mp3 player so I could hear the museum. Once before, I was rewarded with the lovely singing voice of one of the museum employees. She sang a lullaby I can't remember the words to, but still recall the feeling. This time though, it was the rise and fall of conversation of the visiting grade schools. Highschoolers and elementary students. There would be a general hum that slowly built into an almost deafening crescendo, then suddenly quieted as the "shush"es of adults intervened. Rinse and repeat.

I hope that once everything is settled, I can have another lazy outing like this. It's good for the soul.

Experiment - thin acrylic

Crying

The inevitable has happened.

Music Blend - Jero

Didn't have time to work on the experiment (napping and adventuring was had) so instead I thought that maybe once in awhile I'd showcase my odd taste in music.

Today, you get African-American enka (1940's traditional Japanese ballads) singer, Jero.



Inheriting his love for the melodramatic genre from his Japanese grandmother, he's the first black enka singer in history and has won over not only the older enka audience but brought in a younger generation of fans.



He didn't understand the actual words of the songs growing up, but said that he could still feel the "heart" behind them and thus fell in love with it. I think that for both music and art, breaking language barriers and having the feeling behind the work move the audience is the greatest achievement.