Oil pastels do wonders on my fingers in the winter. In fact I’m drawing with them right now. In my right hand is a red so deep that one stroke of it on this canvas would draw people to reflect on their most (painful) memory once they look at it. I think I feel the happiest when I use pastels because the streaks of color left on my hands make them look experienced. Hands like this can create something that will leave a Picasso dimmed in its shadow.
So far I seem to have created an expressive blob of color. To most impressive I’ve ever seen, to be honest. The deep red almost attacks the turquoise and takes away its purity. Maybe between the two colors I could add black and smudge the dividing line into the turquoise to create this warm feeling of pain. Almost like heartburn.
Ok, let me quickly put this away and take a French bath in the staff bathroom sink. ‘Joe the crow’ will be here to open up pretty soon.
“Oh! Here he comes. Tip toe, Joss, tip toe! And whisper! Taaaake your drawing and maaaake sure no evidence is left behind. Into the back room we go!”
The key slid into the store lock-
“Oh, turn off the light!”
Joseph Harrison, the store manager, walked through the door and turned on the lights. He proceeded to the back and pushed through the door, which made a slight squeaking sound. Joss now knew he was in and turned off the faucet. Joseph then walked towards the coffee making and began to make himself a cup. As he did so, Joss collected her things, got dressed, and began plotting how she'll get out of the store without being noticed. The machine began to rummble, and Joss knew her only escape was through the back door. She picked up her shoes and slowly opened the door. Joe faced the coffee maker and picked up the coffee pot before all the coffee was made and Joss made her exit with the canvas, as drops of coffee fell to their sizzling death on the hot plate.
So far I seem to have created an expressive blob of color. To most impressive I’ve ever seen, to be honest. The deep red almost attacks the turquoise and takes away its purity. Maybe between the two colors I could add black and smudge the dividing line into the turquoise to create this warm feeling of pain. Almost like heartburn.
Ok, let me quickly put this away and take a French bath in the staff bathroom sink. ‘Joe the crow’ will be here to open up pretty soon.
“Oh! Here he comes. Tip toe, Joss, tip toe! And whisper! Taaaake your drawing and maaaake sure no evidence is left behind. Into the back room we go!”
The key slid into the store lock-
“Oh, turn off the light!”
Joseph Harrison, the store manager, walked through the door and turned on the lights. He proceeded to the back and pushed through the door, which made a slight squeaking sound. Joss now knew he was in and turned off the faucet. Joseph then walked towards the coffee making and began to make himself a cup. As he did so, Joss collected her things, got dressed, and began plotting how she'll get out of the store without being noticed. The machine began to rummble, and Joss knew her only escape was through the back door. She picked up her shoes and slowly opened the door. Joe faced the coffee maker and picked up the coffee pot before all the coffee was made and Joss made her exit with the canvas, as drops of coffee fell to their sizzling death on the hot plate.