As of yesterday, I am the week-end Salad God at the school cafeteria. It's nothing fabulous, but it'll put a few quid in my pocket and hopefully deter me from continually sponging off of my poor parents. So yer, if you're a Ringlinger popping in for brekkie or supper on Saturday/Sunday and you see a short, doofy kid attempting to discreetly do yoga behind the hotplate, do say hello ^_^
At any rate, the point of this post is to say that now, due to the fact that I now have a seventeen hour work week-end, I really have had precious little time for art (there were more sketches for the children's book scratched out between my shifts and before sleep, but even those I have not had time to scan in O_O;) I shall need to be working round that . . . As it happens, I'm the computer labs right now, printing out my portfolio before my 4.00 PM shift. I'm still in my uniform, even O_O Crikey O'Reilly, this think makes me look like a fourteen-year-old cul de sac kid who is trying to bring bin liners into fashion O_O
ANYHOO. ART.
Since Photbucket decided to be a cunningly oversensitive pansy and delete my other Tata Gala picture, I'll post this one purely out of spite :D
A watercolour I splashed out in hopes of selling prints of it at the new school store (they did not want it)
I'm posting old art because of the whole portfolio-putting-togethery thing. Sorry to you lot who are seeing this twice;
Inspired by one of my very favourite films, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
Last year, I was walking with Sara on the beach and we happened upon an injured seagull. He wasn't bleeding and nothing looked broken, but for some reason, he could not seem to lift himsel fup off of the sand, and simply thrashed about with his wings when we got too close. A few months later, we were at the beach again, and happened upon another seagull, this time very plainly hurt with a badly bleeding wing. When we came near, he sort of shuffled away from us as best we could. Strangely enough, he was heading for the water. We decided that if he was stil there by the time we were done with our walk, we would pick up and take him away. However, when we did return, we found him bobbing about in the shallows, dead. It was almost as if he did it on purpose, like he somehow knew what we were planning and did not want to be saved. . . . Which sounds utterly ridiculous, I know, but it still sort of haunted me.
And now, a happier seagull picture!
This was for the editorial assignment;
I based it off of this story;
Doot doot doot, that will be all for now. I'll post something a bit fresher soon. Toodle pip.
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