Spurred by this Season of Forced Gaiety and Obligatory Gift-Giving, and my pending trip tomorrow, I got the ass-whoopin' I needed to get off the fat thing and put it to use painting.
Okay, I don't actually paint with my ass, but you get the picture.
(Huh, huh, I said "painting" and "picture.")
So I spent the last few days with a tiny brush, myopically painting on a silkscreen. I did a couple test prints this afternoon after the screen had finally dried, and after tearing the house apart looking for my silkscreen squeegie thingy which I had lost from disuse. The only textile paint I had lying around was black, and somewhat old, rendering it kinda chunky.
But… the weird viscosity of the paint, and my meticulous attention to detail on the screen itself (me eyes hoit!) rendered these first two test prints absolutely glorious, if I do say so myself. My best work yet, I think. (Previously, I'd have given that honor to Oscar Wilde, at least as far as silkscreening goes.)
I was worried about the awesomeness of this painting, to be honest. I had to paint the thing in negative, being a silkscreen with white paper as the intended canvas, so looking at the screen, it looks an absolute mess, hardly recognizable as a person at all, much less the King o' Glam.
Of course, I have no digital camera at present to offer you a picture of my completed project today, whose subject matter is a young and supple David Bowie. You're just going to have to trust me that the result is breath-taking, and you should inherently feel compelled to trample the homeless in your rush to buy an advance copy.
Off to work, popkids. Taking tomorrow night off as I'll be on the Left Coast, in Lo-Cal, seeing my very-much-loved-and-missed fambly.
Must try to shake the weird effects of the dream I just woke up from, which consisted of half Sixth Sense, half Donnie Darko, and half Manchurian Candidate. That's three halves, but it was a pretty long and involved dream, so you will allow me the bad math.
It also included a movie-within-a-movie, if you will — an early 80's Nu-Wav remake of Metropolis with appropriate post-punk, early-alternative soundtrack. I wish that existed outside my dreams!
Quick note and I'm out.
Thanks to all who hung out with me at The Hideout last night, alllll night looong. That was bordering on one of the most rockin'est, funnest, amusingest, kickassiest nights I have yet worked in all my days and nights there. Nights like that remind me why I love my job, and all of you fabulous party-hoo-haw'ers.
Now, I go away on zee jet plane. See you on the Wrong Coast, popkids.