Almost got the eye-pouches looking repulsive enough… seriously, has America ever had a less attractive gang holding it by the throat?….
… the two creatures above look like vampires who can move in the daylight, beside themselves with delight at the feast that is laid before them…
Lots more work to be done on the turkey wattles, slimy sneer, bulbous, pock-marked nose and porcine, slit-eyes, but I feel I’m capturing the creature, and it’s primordial, lizard intellect, fairly accurately (:
*edit* … I forgot: thick, rubbery ear/s and beefy, flaccid jowls (:
Those of you familiar with my painting will know I paint portraits of babes… gorgeous, female people… that’s just what I like painting, beautiful creatures, whom I love looking at while the paintings take shape. For the first time, I am going to paint a truely ugly human being, a creature who is as ugly inside, as he is outside. I am doing this because I feel compelled to do so, to create an image that portrays the slimy creature as he truely is, in all his loathsome glory… the Lizard King, ready to swallow the world with one flick of his forked tongue. I need to exorcise my loathing of this repulsive monster, get it down on canvas. I will not enjoy looking at the beast as I work, but will greatly enjoy portraying it in all it’s ugliness. Here is my process, so far…
She was born in a village in the shadow of the ruins of an enormous, ancient, mental asylum. Some catastrophic horror had befallen the asylum a hundred years ago, the patients had all escaped, taking the materials to build her village from the ruins of the stricken edifice. She is the product of a long line of feral lunatics. The very air in the village seems to pulse with madness. She is determined not to succumb…… sometimes, when the madness becomes almost tangible, and she can feel it stroking her hair, she sings the magic songs the pixies taught her, when she was a baby, and they used to climb into her room at night; the power of the songs is strong, and it pushes the madness back, for a while…… unfortunately, lately, in the quite times, her left hand has begun sending her secret finger signals… this is not a good sign…… fortunately, when she goes down by the derailed train, and the metallic bulk of it’s gutted freight cars amplifies her signal, she can still clearly communicate with the aliens, who still tell her they will be here, soon, and everything will be fine…
Model: Emanuelle Courtois Location: Junk. Mainstore, Junk
Model: Emanuelle Courtois
Alice continues to progress. Even though I am trying for a slightly looser style, this work is still taking a long time. While my hand recovers from it’s recent injury, I simply cannot spend hours at a stretch painting, which is a drag, but it’s also good for me to keep trying, as constant exercise is what my hand requires to improve. I have to establish a balance of pushing through the pain barrier, and not being stupid and giving myself RSI on top of arthritis.