I’ve had this blog for a few years now, and through those years a lot of art got posted. All of the posts from the blog tagged as containing artwork ( even if it shares a screen with a few words, too!) are going to be listed here!
If you are looking for the raw, work in progress, real shitty stuff: here’s the spot to look! How did you even get here? ಠ_ಠ
My woman is staring back at me with golden specks in her brown eyes. My woman, of course, is the painting I’ve been working on today. It is something old and ugly, and maybe, I thought, I can make her beautiful today. So I gave her specks of gold and a few more defined strands of green hair and a better environment and then, I drank a cup of reheated coffee.
We’re poor now, so I guess I should embrace doing something out of character like drink a reheated cup of coffee. It’s not very good. The coffee is too strong this morning, and something about a reheated coffee is just intrinsically gross.
I don’t think I even love to paint anymore, but I do it anyway out of a distrust of any other mediums I would otherwise be interested in exploring. What if I started sculpting? Embraced sewing and fashion? Who cares. I have all this paint, I might as well paint over the same stuff several different times until they are as perfect as something I create with my hands could possibly be.
The graffiti in surrounding London is quite lovely. I’ve always had a taste for it. And then, there’s the graffiti I’ve never seen in person. The pieces in Germany and Spain and the Netherlands. South America. The “rakugaki” or grafitti of Japan, and graffiti in other Asian countries. I have worked on my art inspired heavily by graffiti and art from great manga makers of the 80s and 90s.
I gave up on the coffee a while ago. Some things are just not worth sacrificing. It’s a fine time for tea anyways. And so I go about, staring at my woman and she stares right back at me. I’ve got to keep working on her. Refining every strand of hair and every curve of her body until she’s as perfect as possible and I am exhausted and content.
That is what adopting the stay-at-home-mom lifestyle has felt like so far. I get to spend time expressing myself and expressing everything and teaching the babe. His face is learning to react to my own face and he is watching me make art after lunch and we hang out all the time.
The latest piece I have been working on was originally just me trying to practice hands. I don’t paint them enough. There’s a lot of subjects I don’t touch with my paintbrush (or with a ten foot pole.) It quickly turned into my usual scenery, there is a woman with long blue hair. The view is of her back, she’s looking at something. Forward.
I suppose the art world requires artwork being titled. I have yet to catch on to these requirements with my painting so this work is yet untitled. Her skin is dark, it’s orange, it almost looks bruised. And then. leaves start swirling around her. There are trees that start to form, swallowing her up. It’s quite windy, I can feel the breeze and the goosebumps that sweep over her body on my own skin.
In the top right corner, I can start to see that the nude woman is looking at herself in the distance. The same long, flowing blue hair following the whims of the wind. The forests of which they meet are swirled with colors, feelings, moods. There is a muddy rainbow and mushrooms on the forest floor.
The woman’s spine is showing. She looks to herself in the distance. This piece will be updated in my art gallery when it is done.
and after all those brush strokes and finger dabs, I still don’t care for it. It’s Saturday. I started my new job one month ago this past week. It’s been an interesting ride so far, new jobs get more interesting with age. I am slowly getting to know a group of people that I would hope to be with for years, growing and learning professionally. With them around, in an office this time.
So during the weekends, I’m still laying more and more paint into these giant canvases. I sent my husband to get canvases for me a few weekends ago and he brings back 3 massive 5 ft 6in”. They were of course too big to fit in our Mini Cooper so I am amazed he was able to find a way to bring them home and surprise me with them. These ones, I think, must be perfect.
Nothing about it is correct, they look weird and uncomfortable as usual.
I’m having my evening coffee early today. It’s only 2:00pm on a Saturday. My husband is at his moms using her refurnishing tools to build 2 cigar box guitars. I am painting with our son and listening to my Baby Huey playlist. Have a wonderful time. 🙂
That’s what he said to me, the man with thin hair and the long black coat. I joked in my head that he must be going to the matrix that day. He turned back to me and said “It’s pen or perish.” and I asked what, completely taken aback by his comment. He repeated to me, “It’s pen or perish. Never forget that.” and just kept walking in the opposite direction.
I cannot stop thinking about it, and granted its only been two hours I decided I don’t want to forget about it (maybe it’s important?) so I’ll write it down. After I walked in my direction another half a block, I was stopped by an older traveling woman with a backpack asking if I’d be willing to purchase some legal marijuana at a shop in downtown Eugene, OR. I obliged and kept thinking in my head about what the matrix man said to me.
It’s pen or perish. Is he telling me I need to keep drawing? How did he know what he said would be relevant to me?
That’s just today. This month is trying me. I’m 28. Officially. I’m sitting in my room listening to The Apples. So much for joining the famous 27 club. Here I am. I feel like there’s a lot of pressure on modern day women to get married off and procreate by now but I don’t really feel it, I just feel the ghost of a press into my mind’s flesh that should but isn’t there. People around me are flirting with me everywhere and I decided I don’t understand how to handle it despite how much biological sense it makes. It’s annoying and I wish it would stop and every part of me feels rude and problematic for feeling that way about it but the intensity has never been like this before. The pheromones I am emitting are telling a story my mouth and mind never will.
I feel confused about my place in the world and I miss making art more than anything. I find myself often driving long hours just to stop at a coastal town for a coffee and turn around headed back home. As I often do. Is this what life is supposed to feel like, you are cheating on your soul just to survive? Am I just doing this all wrong?
I managed to keep some artwork happening in the last few months since I’ve arrived in Oregon. The new scenery is helping pull something from my guts. Scribbles. Paint. Making a mess. I hope I can wake up and do this every day, one day. If I’m not just going to drop dead at an early age I might as well start living for me instead of just living to survive and benefit someone else. I keep getting tired every day and telling myself excuses and being average and its making my bones shrivel up and my eyes feel dry and my throat feel like a leather wallet. I want to be a lush forest.
Are you ready for the singularity? Do you have enough food stored away in a temperature contained enclosure?
It’s 27 minutes until clock in time and my black coffee gets colder by the minute. By every bassline strum by the velvet underground I am preparing for 8 hours of troubleshooting, typing, comparing data and answering questions.
None of my images have synced up into my google cloud since January. I don’t have anything I could update you with, there’s too many repercussions included in admitting the truth. I had fun once but it wasn’t legal so I couldn’t even tell you about it if I wanted to.
I am driving to Colorado soon, just me and my stuff and my car. Make a few stops along the way, find some humans to smile with, and see my big blues guitar strumming bad joke telling retired career criminal daddy with those blue eyes.
Underwater photographs taken from the Gulf of Mexico with a friend. Sometimes you just need to get out in the wild, splash around and have a laugh. This weekend was that sometimes. I took my waterproof camera with me and took some interesting half underwater photos.
It was such a beautiful day in the Gulf of Mexico.
Rachel Cooper is a hairstylist from Pasco county, Florida. To book her services, visit her website!
I am certain the pressure of making a high quality first post for the new year made me put it off for way longer than I should have. Sorry about that!
That, coupled with a phase of mounting depression (that has since eased it’s way out of my life- goodbye December!) equates to my not having written in >2 months. Shame on me!
I’ve done a few things since then though, very little having anything to do with art at all. I’ve grown a lot as a person, a professional, a graphic designer and a friend.
My focus is on increasing my knowledge and minimizing pressure. I am still going to maintain my presence as camicamirobot.net. I have been using a lot of glitter lately, manifesting myself artistically with just a little bit more chaos.
Every day I am falling in love with creatures. These are all a little bit old and still not the entire update of work as of late and I am still trying to decide if I want to include any small insensitive comics and miscellaneous content on here or if I want to stop being so segregated with my personal art marketing or not and blah blah
I have so much on my mind lately. Praise be you. I love listening to Common People but my coffee is cold and it this room is cold and I have no clean underwear, so goodnight.