Sunday, March 24, 2013

I've run out of foot puns

In this project, I was supposed to take an 'expressive photo', turn it into a gradient thingy on the the computer, then turn the computer gradient thingy into a spray paint gradient thingy, and it turned out like this:

(Reference picture added to avoid confusing the spray paint picture with a bird)

I chose this picture to recreate as a spray paint gradient thingy because I felt like there was an empty void in my collection of art projects that could only be filled be people getting hit in the face with soccer balls. This was an appropriate oppurtunity, I felt, to address it.

That was the first step in the overall project; but as with all my projects, there was not yet enough internal and external strife to prove it worthy of completion:

Next, I went back to the art room with print-out gradient thingy. I was still working on my last project, drawing a chinchilla. While I was doing this, everybody suddenly crowded around the projectors they used to trace their stencils. Even after I finish drawing my chinchilla, everybody is still occupying the projector. Having nothing to do, I read for several days. Eventually I get a chance on the projector and trace my stencils.

Afterwards, I began cutting out my stencils. About half way through I realize that one stencil I made was completely redundant and sacrificed it to the stencil gods.

After sacrificing and maiming the poster board with an exactoknife, I paint a piece of cardboard burgundy. I procrastinate for a bit, then I spray paint the yellow layer on first.

The next day, though, I am infected with a plague similar to the one detailed in my first blog post. I went through similar stages of philosophical introspection regarding grammar and the making of dolphin noises. In the end, I die briefly, but life's weird like that sometimes. After the gruesome journey, I come back and finish spray painting. The product of the whole shebang is the topmost picture shown (unless you are reading this blog upside down or sideways) above. 

The first thing that I noticed was how unexpectedly dark the blue spray paint dried like. The contrast it adds makes it look a bit odd, but I'm not bothered by it too much. The color, distracted me for a moment of the giant mutant blob in the bottom right corner, just under the soccer ball. It was very out of place, and didn't even really look like an arm. It took me looking at my own reference picture to find out that it was somebody's elbow photobombing the picture. But in my mind, I would justify the existence of the blob by saying that it is the trail of flames left by the ball as it flew so fast toward this poor lad's face that it ignited the air.

Sunday, March 10, 2013

Great Things are Afoot

What did the shoe say to the hat?

 Foot note: This shoe drawing is a foot long.

"You go on ahead, and I'll follow on foot."

Anyway, about a month ago, my art class was occupying itself with contour drawing. The assignment above was our project for the unit, to make a contour line drawing of a shoe. As you may guess, this was no easy feet.

The drawing is, certainly, recognizable as my own shoe, but it still does not contain all of the characterizing feetures of my actual shoes; the holes near the sides that go straight through the shoe, the scratches, gashes, dirt, etc. Indeed, my real shoe may be on its last leg.

I've got to hand it to myself, though, it's a lot more realistic than the contour hand drawing I was doing earlier. In those, I could hardly handle constructing five fingers; it was a bit out of hand. Hands down, however, all of the practice with contour drawings eventually made me get a grip on the whole concept, I learned it's not that difficult to grasp. I give myself a hand for this one.

There is one thing I want to point out, however: the laces. They're a bit wound up there, but it's for a reason. It's a bit of a tradition for me to tie my shoelaces in ridiculous patterns, and there is a story behind it.

You see, back in 2010, during April fools day, I was watching my step at school, as everybody was. Trying to avoid being tread on by other peoples' tricks. I didn't last very long, though, as I've always been a bit gullible, I was defeeted by somebody telling me my shoes were untied when they weren't.

Next year, April fools day 2011, I was still kicking. But I was still quite laced up from last year, and had created, after some sole-searching, a brilliant plan. I tied my shoes in the most ridiculous way, a way that could not possibly come undone in the next several days; a Gordian knot to boot.

When I went to school that day, I inevitably ran into the person that had so callously waded up to me and told me my shoes were untied last year. This year, again, she could not hold her tongue and told me the same thing: "Hey, your shoes are untied."

I grinned, and without even looking down, replied, "No, they're knot."