Been at my scanner again, scanning old drawings and stuff. I used to draw cartoons, some for publication in a student mag back then, some not. I think I was flirting with being a cartoonist.
Not sure why I've suddenly become so fascinated with these old sketchbooks.
Perhaps it is that I think I'd be happier if I went back to painting and drawing ... but I think it's too late. And I'm not one for hobbies.
And besides, I have writer's mind I think. I love words and sentences, and the rhythms and nuances that appear when I write. They tickle my brane.
But when I look at these drawings and remember how amazing it was to see things unfold out of the end of a pen, I get an itch to go back. Pictures are so much more gratifying than writing. And I think they say so much more ... but that's just coz I'm going through a period of hating to write. It happens.
My only problem is they can get a bit ... um ... twee I think the word is. Something to guard against, like sentimentality in writing.
But nonetheless, I quite like them.
There's captions which I'd better make clear because my writing is terrible, so I'll add them underneath each picture in italics.
Don't ask me what they mean because I can't explain.
Sometimes the heater misbehaves, but life's like that ... sometimes.
I like it when it rains ...
... all that water.
The sound of it beating
on the tin roof.
I feel safe
when I'm inside
and it's raining ...
My love
will come
home soon
The chain of my mistakes ...
... I know it's there
... it always waits.
All my friends are buried
deep in my wounded heart
miramaze
I LOVE Your drawings !
They speak their own language .. and the message is different for each and every one.
they don't have to MEAN anything .. but they certainly speak
Thank you for sharing them on here
XX