Midnight Sketch Book...

Last night I stayed up way past my bedtime, awake on paracetamol tablets with extra caffeine. Having not felt right for a few weeks it seemed the thing to do after a day of feeling extra 'out of sorts'. The good thing that came out of it is I managed to draw something that I was at least half happy about. Even if it was a slavering beast that took no thought at all. But maybe that's what I needed. Just the action of drawing and not feeling too precious about it.

I liked it so much I scanned and coloured it in. By this time though I was ready to sleep (Caffeine has that effect on me). I did a few other sketches, again nothing  to do with anything in particular, random marks that I enjoyed making. So the question is, was I feeling better and that allowed me to draw, or did the act of drawing heal me? I like to think the latter.

I have been using a lot of ink and pens recently because I enjoyed using ink and pens. Using the pencil was great, I got my fingers grubby and thought twice about touching my touch screen telephone. Graphite was in, if not under, my skin. I get bored really easy which is why I like using the computer. It makes my work look new to me, keeps things fresh in my eye.  

And there's always that voice in the back of my head saying that if I'm an illustrator I should be making work in colour, because statically that's what people like. By this time I have been to bed and woken up feeling pretty good. So I finished off what I started the night before. And yes, I prefer the original pencil drawings over the colour ones too.


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