Ink People

Just for some visual silliness to go with the usual verbal kind, here's my latest painting. It's called "Very Small Ink People Playing in a Field of Colours", and it shows, well, very small ink people playing in a field of colours. Watercolours, to be precise. The whole thing is about 5x7", and was just splashed about this morning.

In case you're wondering, this is, of course, High Art. With a capital A. The kind you're supposed to study carefully, and then you nod wisely and make some erudite comments about composition and complementary colours. Not a lot of chiaroscuro to be had, I'm afraid; you'll have to find some other fancy words to throw around to impress the unwary. (Incidentally, I used to pronounce that word chiaro-scuro, thinking the o's were the ending of each part of the compound word, and feeling oh-so-clever for saying it that way; but then I learned that it's actually chiar-oscuro, clear-obscure. It means, of course, the light-dark contrast that people like Rembrandt do so fantastically well, and people like me can only dream of. But at least I can pronounce the word right, and now you can, too.) Oh, you could also draw some really intelligent inferences about the deep meanings of the ink people's poses, and how it reflects the inner state of my being at the moment of drawing them. And most likely it's also a scathing indictment of the social realities of twenty-first century life.

On the other hand, you could also look at this, and quietly chuckle at it, or briefly grin, or even just vaguely twitch up the corner of your mouth or left eyebrow. That would be quite sufficient for me, thank you very much.

Life, the universe, and ink people. I have a feeling there's more where those came from.