29 Faces #29 The Final Face

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Yay – the last face! I couldn’t do this face thing without some comment on the vomit-inducing jubilee nonsense that the establishment is bombarding us with here. I make no apologies to royalists – I have no time for monarchy in any shape or form.

As suggested, I did this one with a medium I don’t usually use – in this case I did it on the iPad using the Sketchbook Pro app and a couple of free photo effect apps. I quite like the effects you can get but I am not all that taken with the process. Like I’ve said before I love art materials too much.

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29 Faces #26 Painted Face

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A face I forgot to post – the commission I did a couple of weeks back – it was still a work in progress at this stage. Unfortunately I didn’t take a picture of the finished article.

Three faces to go. I haven’t managed to look at all of the other bloggers who are doing this but I did notice that quite a lot stopped after just a few. I also noticed that I am one of only two or three males doing it. What does that say? Anyhoo, onward and upward.

29 Faces #25 Another Bear

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I like this a bit more than poor elfie. Only just though. Maybe I’m better with a biro. A tutor at art college back in the day said I’m only happy with a pencil in my hand – having looked at my drawings for the first time.

I just had a thought – this blogging malarkey is soooo self-indulgent – I’m bad for that as it is.

Anyway, I’m kind of looking forward to this faces thing being over. I’ve gone off the boil.

29 Faces #24 The Final Elf

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I started this while Noddy was on this morning. It is crap. I hate it. I will not draw another elf. I said I wouldn’t edit so I haven’t. It is ok to be negative, it is ok to dislike something. I have no elves, fairies or goblins in me. I remember painting a fairy on a leather jacket years ago – it was shit too. Should have learned that lesson.

29 Faces #19 Old Poet

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Ok, a bit of a cheat as I did this a while ago – early 90’s I think. It’s the late great Norman MacCaig – one of Scotland’s finest poets and probably my favourite. If you get a chance check out some of his work. Here is one from 1988…

Small Boy

He picked up a pebble
and threw it into the sea.

And another, and another.
He couldn’t stop.

He wasn’t trying to fill the sea.
He wasn’t trying to empty the beach.

He was just throwing away,
nothing else but.

Like a kitten playing
he was practising for the future

when there’ll be so many things
he’ll want to throw away

if only his fingers will unclench
and let them go.

I had the privilege of attending a reading with MacCaig and another great sadly gone, Gaelic poet Sorley MacLean, in Edinburgh 1988. They were amazing.

Ok, 10 faces to go. Will I make it?