Over-reaching

This is the last of my Doodle Week inspired, and Seven Deadly Sin themed, drawings. It's probably even less obvious than the others, but it's meant to represent Pride. How, you may ask ...

I tried to hint at a bust of Frankenstein's monster. It's patchwork pieces of a face stitched together by a modern Prometheus who is trying to steal God's thunder (or fire) for creation. Sometimes art can be an act of pride (in both the positive and negative senses of that word). Allowing one's ego to fall away and one's muse to take over, is one of its biggest challenges.

Now back to poetic illustrations, and some poetry, in the posts to follow.

Over-indulgence

Even though Doodle Week is technically over, I'll be posting my last two deadly-sin-themed drawings post-festivities. Below is my over-indulgent ode to Gluttony. It started as a simple blobby torso before I got carried away with the shapes and shadows. I'll get Pride up shortly, and then it's back to normal business.

Doodle Week: Shall covet

This is my Homer Simpson inspired version of the deadly sin Envy, which almost catches me up on Doodle Week (Gluttony and Pride to go). The drool and flopping tongue could also apply to Gluttony (or Lust for that matter), but I have something else in mind for that.

Doodle Week: Not so angry

This is my not-so angry take on the deadly sin Wrath, which was Doodle Week's theme for Day 5 (I'm trying to catch up). The flame in the pupil looks a bit too much like a tulip.

Coupling ideas

Combining my ongoing task of illustrating Hanna's poems with the seven deadly sins theme of the most recent Doodle Week, I present this drawing entitled I Corpi in Lotta (struggling bodies). It's a phrase from the poem L'Altare di Liberazione, and it's also highly suggestive of the Doodle Week day 1 theme of Lust (yes, I'm regressing in time).

Doodle Week: Kicking back

Day Four's Doodle Week theme is Sloth. I may have abstracted this one too much, but it's my take on a cross-legged slacker pose. I've also included a visual pun ... can you guess what it is?

Doodle Week: Getting grabby

Caught up in my own personal drawing frenzy, I let the first two days of Doodle Week pass by unmarked. That sin of omission ends today with my contribution to Day 3's theme Greed. It's nothing fancy, but it still has some grab value. I'll try to interject at least one or two more designs on this daily parade of deadly sins.

A fishy gasp

Sometimes my drawings start out as very simple ideas (for example, a fish with mouth agape), but grow into something a bit monstrous. This is an illustration of the poetic phrase un pesce guizzante boccheggia (a darting fish gasps). As you can see, I got a bit absorbed in its complexities.

Petal in coffee

I continue to pay off my debt of owed illustrations with a quite literal drawing of a petal in coffee. I'm not sure this works entirely, but there are a few things I like about it.

The arched body

This is another illustration of a poem by Hanna. It's entitled Il Corpo Arcuato (The Arched Body), which comes from the opening line of her poem Vizio Onanistico.

Un pianeta: catching up

I'm doing some catch-up, and I hope to post a number of drawings in rapid succession. This first is entitled Un pianeta incompiuto (An incomplete planet), a line from a poem by Hanna. Don't forget to check out my still-in-progress new site: FrancisScudellari.com

Broken, Reach: a new drawing, a new site

I'm still adding content to my new website, but I've transferred quite a lot over the weekend. If you haven't yet, please check it out:

FrancisScudellari.com

I'll continue to post here to inform you of updates on my main site, and I may throw in some personal notes until I get a blog installed over there. Here's my latest drawing, which will be followed shortly by a new poem.

Rebirth

I am in the midst of re-defining my online identity. I may or may not resuscitate this blog, but my new creative home can be found here. I appreciate the very kind comments left on my last post. I'm dealing with a bit of frustration in my personal life, which is bleeding into my creative one. That's inevitable, but I hope that the new website will allow me to be more focused on writing/drawing and less caught up in the self-promotional activities that are inextricably linked to blogging.

Giving in to an existential crisis

I had the best intentions of blogging more, but the overwhelming indifference of a world with many other better things to pay attention to provokes a single echoing phrase:

Why bother?

My selfless contribution to the universe has been an unquestionably unrequited affair, and such an unbalanced relationship can never be healthy. So, I'll let things lapse with a whimper rather than a bang, and ponder what's next within the very solitary confines of my imagination.

Winding form

This drawing was inspired by the sculpture Windform by Lynn Takata (see yesterday's post, Smoothing things over...). It's definitely not a drawing of the sculpture. I made some unusual color choices on this one.

Smoothing things over ...

I'm sorry for the prolonged silence, but I was quite busy this weekend playing mason. I was part of a project to restore a sculpture that resides in one of the local parks. The piece, Windform, celebrates its 25th anniversary this year.

Lynn Takata, the artist, flew in from Portland to direct a few dozen neighborhood park and public-art lovers in the difficult but fun task of resurfacing the 100-foot long cement sculpture.

As you can see from the photo below (snapped by my friend Tom), I was assigned to the cement mixer to prepare the mortar. I'll post a drawing soon to commemorate Windform, and I still am working on posts about my NYC trip.

Easing back with Show & Tell

I'm back from New York City (stay tuned for photos), and am easing my way back into the old routines. As I regain my posting groove, I'm taking a few minutes to answer a question posed by my blogging friend Jena as part of a meme.

What would your version of the Madonna look like?

This is a bit of a cheat, but I drew a version of the Pietà a few months back that I think best captures my artistic conception of the Madonna. It is in the general form of a tear, but if you look closely you should be able to make out the figures of mother and adult child intertwined in shared suffering. I hope it also depicts a strength of selfless comforting in the face of great sorrow.