I am finally getting back into the groove of making art. Inevitably, this means taking a day where I get up at 9:30, stay in my pyjamas all day, and work on things for hours at a time. It often means drinking litre after litre of tea as well. At the moment, I'm teasing the idea of actually making something every day for a year. I don't know if I'm committed enough, but I imagine that if I got down to it, I would be able to do it quite easily. Here are a few things I've done recently.
The one on the left is my newly decoupaged sketchbook, or part of it. I tend to keep a lot of paper ephemera around, and I decided that since I don't hang it on my wall often, but I want to keep it, I may as well decorate my sketchbooks with them. Sketchbooks are not something I get rid of, and therefore I can keep these lovely images for ever. Note the photograph of the girl holding the fox mask. It is one of my favourite photos. Just a small factoid.
The image to the right is a loosely fitting fingerless glove that I made of vintage lace (it was kind of doily-place mat thing) and spent well over two hours beading. It is encrusted across the knuckles. I'm deciding whether I should add more beads, and if I should make a pair to it, and if I should put eyelets on the side, to make it lace-able. I can always decide later (as long as I do before the end of September).
Returning to the idea of making something every day... I find it extremely admirable. However, for me, I tend to have solid days where I work on things, and then go days without. Since I don't consider myself a drawer, I don't consider my drawings or journal writing to be art or creative. By all definitions, it is... But I have yet to be convinced.