Mariel's Art and Sketches: August 2019

Golden Spinsters

The spiders scamper, hover, and spin endlessly until the gold becomes the finest silk.

It is rather ticklish how their sharp pointy legs prick on my skin as they go about their work.

Nothing to complain for I always have the highest quality garments embroidered with spider silk.

How fine, how beautiful!

There's not much to compare against these golden threads. Smooth, velvety, oh so vividly bright in every angle.

The envy of the court, they all call me.

'Oh how you glisten, lady! How refined and elevated you look above us!' they all proclaimed.

Oh, what's that? You wish to have them make you a garment?

No sir, no lady.

These eight-legged masters only create for those they deem worthy -- oh, me?

Hah! It took me centuries to gain their trust. And for one immortal such as I, that is a rather embarrassing feat.

Still if you wish to push on with your wish then I shall say this.

Upon the light of the blue moon, gather about you roses of the reddest color, as bloody crimson as you could find.

Mind you to find the petals soft, too.

On your hands place a piece of gold and a bead of pearl, and a monarch butterfly of the purest white.

Gifts of honor, of gratitude, and as these spiders procure such delicate crafts they must be rewarded with the rarest meal that one can find in exchange for their laborious work!

Their master would be very much pleased -- she is the largest of them all so do be sure to give her the biggest piece of the flutterer.

Upon the stroke of three in the morning, a deathly silence will arrive.

It is deafening, but you must wait.

After all, these spiders take too much time and patience to create such finery.

And lastly, from your lips utter your word of thanks.

But pray care to pronounce the greatest of gratitudes, for as humble as these creatures appear to be, they are as fickle as you and I.

Hurt not their pride and you shall gain the finest garment of gold as you could ever imagine.

My, you could even have hundreds of dresses and coats made nothing but golden spider silk!

Splendid accoutrements, are they not!

What if you fail, you ask?

Well, my friends. That is for mortals to find out.

My immortal soul is bound to their work for all the failures I've had. A price, I suppose, that I was willing to pay.

Who can say what happens to mortals if they do not please the golden spinsters?
Die?

Let me tell you this -- no mortal has ever lived to tell me otherwise.

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, by Mariel

In artist, caran d'ache dry pastel

Poppy

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, by Mariel

In caran d'ache, caran d'ache dry pastel

Spring has always wanted to linger a little bit longer, though summer is always too keen to take his adventurous strides. And now autumn is already hanging by the leaves and winter waits ever so patiently in the wind -- my how time flies!

There is a medium that had taken my heart with so much enthusiasm.

Dry Pastel.

In my high school years, I've used pastel for almost everything. The sun in the packaging of it made me smile, as did the effect it has on my artwork. Learning a particular technique from my cousin who got it from his teacher, I smudged the pastel with tissue to make it as my base and then from there I would cover it with watercolor pencils. And then I added my own technique: I brush it over with wet brush and added a new layer of colored pencil once again. Sometimes I would repeat the process all over again until the artwork looked as if it was printed. I rather liked it, to be honest. However, the pigment would sometimes be too 'rough' for me and it didn't give off that glow that I was looking for. It's still a good medium though.

Fast forward to this month, I stumbled upon Caran D'Ache's Dry Pastels. I have been using their colored pencils for quite sometime starting this year and goodness, they are so rich in texture and the pigments so vivid I could hardly exert too much pressure while using them. Just a stroke and a luscious vivid texture has already made its mark on the paper.

And so as I looked for more colors (I buy individual pencils as I think I do not need particular hues that are included in their sets, plus they're very much ostentatious for me), my mum and I saw their dry pastels at the store. I wasn't sure if I wanted to get one. They're expensive -- kuripot me said no even if the curious me said yes. But upon seeing the pigments, I remember Claire Keane's artwork where she used dry pastels -- I've never seen such beautiful and ethereal illustrations made with dry pastel.

I battled against myself. Is it worth the price? And then Christmas came early -- my mum told me she would buy it for me as a gift. Now, I'm not apt to accept such an offer. However, my mum told me that if she offered such a thing, I should accept, that if help comes to one, one must be gracious enough to accept it. And so I did.

And goodness, how beautiful the dry pastels were! And how thankful I was and still am! I used the same technique of smudging it with tissues and cotton buds and then applying some colored pencils. I felt ecstatic; is this how Ms. Keane felt? Or how Hans Holbein felt with his pastels? Utter and sheer delight! But of course, at first I was afraid. But who wasn't afraid in the beginning?

'Spring' is my third dry pastel piece and all I could say is how happy I am with her. <3

I have been so much enamored with dry pastel. It is such a delicate yet tedious medium but one which I find myself devoted to. Dry pastels and colored pencils by @carandache
are so lovely and I'm very much happy with them.

Detail of 'Spring':

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, by Mariel

In cottage, embroidered pouch

Ramblings of a Twenty-something-year-old-Grandma

Busy as a bee, not that I'm complaining.

There has been much going on and I have been going back and forth between writing and illustrating so much recently that the strain in my back has been all but forgotten though it reminds me of its presence every now and then. A tedious schedule surely, but, one that I find myself supremely devoted to and grateful for. I wouldn't want it any other way.

Recently, I found myself sleeping at five in the morning and waking at nine; not a good habit and one that I cannot recommend. In the past two days I've slept remarkably earlier and I think that's improvement even if but a little. I slept at four am and twelve midnight respectively. While it is certainly still not a healthy hour to sleep, it is with optimism that I quite agree that it is the little steps that make improvement a steady and better change. And coming from an insomniac, that does say a lot about the kind of effort one puts into being an early 'sleeper'.

Amidst all the hustle and bustle, there's always time for slowing down. And I admit, I miss walking about three kilometers one way to the grocery store back in Itoshima. It was such an effort, despite being rather exhausting, always calmed me down more than sitting. I suppose it is because of the all the nature I've been seeing there -- I've seen huge birds flying over the sky and goodness I can't express how much fascination struck me during such moments, especially when I saw that fox by the mountainside as well as the ginkgo leaves and sinewy spiders. The latter was too much for me, but they do carry some sort of elegance which are rather better to be left to look at than to be touched.

As with the embroidered pouch pictured above, I have discovered a novel way to cover the edges of the piece. Whereas before I would make satin stitches as borders which took too much time and thread, recently I've used lace on this beige floral pouch. I'm still getting the hang of making the edges look as if it is part of the canvas itself. nitpicking at the stray threads to make it look clean. However, it is not for me to declare that I wouldn't do the satin stitched edges anymore as I do love that look about it. Perhaps not just for every piece. Time-wise, the lace takes little time to make and this piece took only about a day to finish, compared to the two to three days for the satin stitch. I'm quite satisfied.

Each day I am discovering new techniques and media to work with as well as little realizations about myself. Already at twenty-eight, an age, which, compared to what Dr. Lucy Worsley has mentioned in the BBC documentary of British Romance that thirty five is, as uttered about the colonel in Austen's Sense and Sensibility as, well...ancient, twenty-eight seem to be nearing extinction. I do hope NOT. No, such is not the case. Anyways, I've been side-tracked once again. Oh goodness, it's such a relief that this blog encourages the free flowing of thoughts or else I would have been answering to a strict writer mentor -- fortunately, I run this blog. Well then moving on!

So at twenty-eight, I've realized that I could be such a good manipulator of myself. Many a time have I surrendered to my own whims. Sleepy? Go on and take a nap. Craving for that piece of chocolate? Come on, a little kitkat won't hurt. Still feeling like the energizer bunny at 3 am? Well keep working on that story or illustration until 5am then!

Recently, however, I am able to stir myself away from such thoughts and actions. Perhaps the best example of all, is how I am able to coax myself away from melancholy. It may be a surprise to some but certainly not to me, that my melancholy has been nibbling away at my own self-worth and self-esteem. Melancholy, even if it sounds so elegant, is one unforgiving fiend. It kept bothering my already busy self with feelings that hold back any sort of progress as well as pulling me into the deep waters once again -- a place where I have already escaped from so many times. Believe me when I say that depression is not an easy obstacle to tackle. That one's harder than all Olympics events combined and no, I am not joking. No one really just snaps out of it. It involves a slow process of recuperation.

And goodness how tedious it was. Nobody wants to cry as you're struggling to come up with new concepts for your projects. And nobody wants to feel like a burden. If anyone who suffers the same way as I do, or feel sadness and guilt, please know that you can go through this, although I tell you, it takes time and a lot of effort from you.

In order to get away, I deceived myself. Odious sounding, yes, but that's what I did. I pretended to be ecstatic. I looked at things that are relaxing, learned new bits of information from documentaries and made myself think that I am well, even if I certainly am not. This self-deception may not work for some and I do not recommend it, but at the time, encouragements from quotes or self-pep talk didn't work. It only made me feel worse because, if people felt better with such things, how broken am I to feel nothing and get nothing from them? And so self-deception it is, though without the consequences of course.

And I should mention music! Music always soothes me. While it's alright to let it all out while listening to rather morose pieces, it's good to listen to those that make our hearts swell with happiness and cozy warmth.

One particular piece flew in my direction one night at 11pm just as I was about to sleep (gasp). 'Winter Bear' by Kim Taehyung of BTS came at such a dark time in my August that when the first few notes of the song played, I was already a sobbing mess. And as the music video progressed, I thanked God for the little things that save me. Bit of a fact, I've called Taehyung a grandpa version of Detective Conan back in 2014/2015 and I can't tell you how much it pleases this young grandma of how he is now. I do admire him so much and boldly speaking, I do feel like a kindred spirit with him. Ambitious sounding, but what can I say? Life is full of surprises.

'Si tu voi ma mère' by Sidney Bechet is also a beautiful piece. I could listen to it all day while illustrating and writing. The same could be said of the other pieces of music which I indulge myself to listen to. One day I shall put up my playlist.

Well, I'm just rambling now, am I?

I hope you are all well!

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, by Mariel

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Hello there!

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recent posts

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