I really appreciate that you have taken the time to check out My Art Journal. There is only one online art journal like mine: I incorporate very little Mixed Media in my journal entries, if at all, and rely on my illustration skills. My Art Journal is where I express my opinions about politics, religion and intimate thoughts about current events in my life. Because of this some of my entries are censored. I sincerely hope that you will discover my Art Journal to be engaging, revealing and moving. I am not as concerned how much you like or dislike My Art Journal as long as you feel something.
Please take the time to view my other Blog @http://www.einherjarstudio.blogspot.com/
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
So that is the motivation to drawing my face like that. That is my face you're looking at there.
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
I didn't get to express everything that I wanted to in my last journal entry, so that is why I wrote and drew this one. I feel like the hardest working people in our society are faceless. For instance we see the Field Workers but we never see their faces. They toil in the fields, they pick our food, they perform back breaking work and we never see their faces. They're faceless to us. So that is is what this illustration is supposed to represent.
Monday, November 14, 2011
I recently read a story in the Santa Cruz Weekly about field workers that made me very angry and inspired me to write and draw this journal. It was about how migrant workers only make $13.000 a year and that they run out of groceries between the months of October and February. The article talked about Elia Fernandez who's husband injured his back and she had to support the family on her own.
If you read this please go an read the article http://www.metropdf.com/santacruzweekly.html . It's outrageous that our hardest working people can't afford to buy groceries.
Monday, November 7, 2011
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Reduction Poetry (I Think We Should Kiss More)
" Now I'm Nervous dear. You have a passion pressing mouth to his, waiting for pressure in response.
Listen I know your plight. They grappled for a while. Every touch had shared an accident or instinct
she shivered, the mood in revolution. They lay there like the outfit of a ghost.
I think we should kiss more"