Soc here
We’re not going to fuck about on this page because reasons.
If you wanted to inspire gloom and despair in me, you need
do no more than show me a child playing alone in their bedroom. And such has it been my entire adult life.
Just thinking about it now creates a virtual knot in my stomach. My children
are grown now so I don’t ever witness this, but when they were small I saw it
all too frequently. I’d complain to my wife and she’d cursorily pronounce me a
mawkish twat.
Without getting too psychoanally, I reckon it’s rooted
in a lonely and awkward childhood. I
don’t know if it was really so, or my adult brain pretends it was.
I did this one in the late nineties, when my elder kid was
small:
Notā bene: I don’t have the original any more. I gave it away many years ago and have been
unsuccessful in acquiring a picture of it.
All I have is what’s pictured above. FUCK YOU MUPPET LOL JKS ETC
I was lamenting one day about having lost it to the
universe. Then I thought, ‘Hang on
there, Soc me old boy. You’re an
artist*, just paint it again’. So, in
’08, I did:
And it’s a vast improvement. All the original elements are
there but everything is tighter. I guess
that’s what ten years practise does for you; I’d learned a few more cheats and
what a difference patience and perseverance makes.
So much had the craft improved that Frankenspouse has
allowed this one to reside in Frankenspouse Manor. So it can torture me with its inherent
sadness every day.
There was something powerful about the ham-fistedness of the
original though.
Soc is a fraud
downinahole
*Shut it. It serves
my purpose for this page
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