Posts tagged ‘drawing’

March 4, 2011

smiles all around

we’ve made it.

through february.

[an excerpt from elisabeth belliveau‘s wonderful book, ‘the great hopeful someday’]

miss belliveau has been at the forefront of the great inspirators of the ilhu industries ever since i picked up this book some years ago. some people turn to the bible or to that girl who write the harry potters [what’s her name?  doesn’t matter] for spiritual guidance and everything that is down and needing a great uplifting – well, i’ve been using TGHS as this type of guide ever since i laid my filthy paws all over it. [no seriously the once immaculate white cover shows the marked wear of a graphite abuser].

and recently a dear _r gave me her then newest book ‘don’t get lonely don’t get lost’ for x-mass and i just about wet myself.

don't get lonely don't get lost

i am constantly haunted by her writing – the story of being mugged in london has stayed with me ever since the night i cracked it open.


you get the idea.  i essentially covet e’s work and often find myself melding life scenes together in her line drawing style.


i am so so pleased to see that she will be showing her work at MONASTIRAKI [get there!]

opening tonight!

oh! can you just ~feel~ my excitement oozing out of your screen??

and if anyone has $500 kicking around, my love is once again officially for sale.

February 19, 2011

be // twee // n the // heatha // mphetamines

ix hermit

ace wands

daughter pentacles

xx judgement

ace pentacles


the dremes are coming on fast and thick – i cannot write them down quick enough.  slippery rock and architecture carved into the landscape is prevalent.


dried rose stems make for love spell wands.

i work badly collectively.

puncturing through tissue and equipping others for my filth.

brain’s on another wavelength as a :: a novel would have it.

more heathamphetamines, please.

February 16, 2011

i would die 4 U

03 swords

09 wands

xvii moon

evil moon / riki-kun

spent the better part of the day attempting to rescue the 3 of swords from a background disaster, and there’s not much i can do about it now, other than re-draw the entire card but i somehow refuse to do that today.

after a night of PURPLE RAIN, i return home and found these in my postal.


i am so infinitely pleased with them i went so far as to transform my very favourite textile into a tiny pouch for them.
violet fabric

i’ve been carrying around this tiny scrap of fabric – measuring at most 15×15 cm – for about 10 years.  salvaged from my mother’s scrap bin [she must have made a shirt from it many years ago, i unfortunately don’t remember].  i have never been able to find a textile quite like this again, so i knew it was special.  so sacred, the sacrifice to cut and sew this tiny little thing was frustrating.  it isn’t even large enough for a proper drawstring.  enough of that – i least i finally own something worthy of immortailizing violets on a black abyss.

February 15, 2011

Valentinian // Anadoxia

04 swords

08 pentacles

09 cups

xv baphomet

07 wands

05 cups

03 pentacles


between the tennesee tennis knee and a hilarious bout of the trembling bunnies, i somehow managed to draw 4 cards today, including our dearest BAPHOMET on this valentine’s day.

instead of boring you with my processes, i’m going to bore you with a dream i had last night.

i’m the eldest daughter of a nomadic tribe led by michael gira.  my name is oksana, as the eldest daughter of every tribe must be named oksana as every CHILD must be born in oksana, north dakota.  my family tribe travels around the world hanging signs – the huge ones that you see on the sides of highways and such.  at one part i am separated from my family while soliciting for people to advertise with us.  michael gira’s voice is ringing through my head YOU ARE OKSANA THE DAUGHTER OF DOXA.  REMEMBER WHO YOU ARE, REMEMBER THE ANADOXIA.  i am climbing up these very beautiful houses, white and silver and they are carved into cliffs, with very dark green coniferous trees gorwing out of them and forming other houses.  i am lost and i have lost my younger sisters and brothers that michael gira has trusted me with.  i am walking up and down and up and down these slippery wet white rock cliffs trying to get back to ‘the car’ but there are all these very old ladies dressed in crazy colours and piles of gold jewelry and i am all in black because i am ‘oksana’ and i must never forget.  i am now walking up this very cold snowy mountain holding a huuuge cloroplast sign and i can see my tribe at the top.  the sign is very unwieldy and am holding on very tight but the wind is blowing it up like a sail.  i finally reach the top after what feels like hours and my tribe climbs onto the sign and slides all the way down the mountain i just climbed and we do this like 5 times.

February 12, 2011

6 // 6 // 6

06 wands

06 swords

06 cups


i want to go there with you.

i’ve been pulling a lot of 6s lately, so it was only fitting to have today’s contribution be the 666 kind – an homage to the only 666 beast i know [crowley, of course – the man with the plan]

while i’ve really loved sketching and planning each composition, the backgrounds are the most time consuming and detract from the image.  granted, i haven’t pulled a major arcana in a few days so i’ve only been thinking in minor and trying to play them up a little, maybe too much?


victory of science happiness.  today’s reading was weird – calling for both victory and surrender.  for the most part, it never plays in my favour, so it will be interesting to see how the rest of this evening pans out…

February 12, 2011

emotional balance // oppression

10 wands


balanced oppression?  this is no complete breakfast, no simple bowl of wheaties.

truth be told, i don’t like surprises, have a grand dislike for secrets [secret societies don’t count as real secrets].  i am oppressed by my love of victorian literature and my need to waste time.

i am especially not a genius, i only try to not make boring art.  and fail.

ace cups

February 11, 2011

simutaneous love // voided love

02 cups


that one love.

not symbolic love, but simultaneous love.

the fulfilling and nourishingly clear.

the one striven but rarely, if ever achieved.

yea.  that one.

February 11, 2011

fear of failure // fear of success

07 pentacles

there are no accidents.

as i have FINALLY begun beginning the tarot project – my first completed card is  VII PENTACLES.  fear of failure / fear of success.

it all began … a long time ago.  the idea has always stirred within me, but it wasn’t until i started reading crowley’s ‘book of thoth’, that i said JUMP.

as a final academic opus, a graduating gift to myself.

reading about the nebulous history of the cards, i was reminded once again of nomadic culture and my dry heaving slowly towards it.  with much loathing and minimal [yet formidable] ties to this suffocating towne, i would so love to GET. OUT. AND/AWAY.

thinking about the means of going about this, i began reading about established nomadic cultures – namely the Romanies in Britain – an unfortunately fading way of life considering the general shift away from agriculture as an industry.  what remains – horse trading, hawking, dukkerin?

what if i could live utterly minimally, WELL?  dukkerin as a bonafide vocation is the single most unrealistic idea i’ve certainly ever had but what if i were to get really good at it, like REALLY good.  graduate with a BFA, become a priestess kind of good.

it’s all very overwhelming and non-existent.



in a strange exercise of living vicariously this way, i’ve drawn some of my ‘essential’ belongings [nail polish] in a series called ‘survival kits’.  i used to make lists of all the things i would take me in a moment’s notice, but drawing them is a bit more…fulfilling?  i’ve also been toying with the idea of sculptural vignettes of these – head phones, bus ticket, origami boat…

survival kits 01


or remain, walnut house wifeless.

February 3, 2011

be good // imbolc // our virus

sun room


be good






our virus is the sun.

our sublime slandering.

you are the opponent of the moral.

our love yawns.

selfish sin is dark, dissatisfied.

a parade of transcendental values.

our instinct for laughter.

our virus is virtue, infinite.

our brave chaos.

our gilded curiousity.

our bored metaphor.

secret selves grasped.

unspoken spiritualization suspended.

inner horizon of exultant multiplicity.

our glittering discipline.

our clumsy charm.

January 28, 2011




after having participated in The Sketchbook Project, i have finally gotten back into the swing of sketching and journaling.



while i don’t consider myself to have any ‘style’ of drawing or composition, there are methods and processes that i play a lot with and gravitate towards.  after having not participated in journaling for months, picking up these habits again were difficult.  i gave myself a ridiculous timeline and was, for the most part, not very inspired.

was i between methods [styles]?

i am tilting on towards overlapping architecture, simple black lines on white. i am thinking about pointillism.



my ‘new zine’ will be mostly in this style.  i hope it doesn’t come across as ‘lazy’, i’m just not feeling dense layers.  the story was going to be an ‘anthology’ of hutch memories and stories but it got too personal very quickly.  there’s a lot to choose from and it’s all valid but unnecessary.

there’s a supposed audience to consider.  who the hell wants to read about 4 am existential crises and pancakes?  while i am sure some might be able to relate to the matter, i want the stories to be more about sense / place memory than specific memories.  tell without telling.

until i figure out where exactly i’m taking this, i have nietzsche to deal with.

this compendium of text / drawings DEVOURS pens.  luckily i’ve been getting them at 2/$1.  i’m lucky if i can get 10 pages done in a day before my spine fails at supporting me.