Everything distant, everything close

Lately i was so very tired, that i even didn't draw. Although that made me very restless, i couldn't find the peace to sit down and create something new. All i could do was take care of my responsibilities, reading, sleeping a lot when possible and daydreaming. But only daydreaming makes me sad and even more restless. My muse hadn't left me, she was knocking at my door but i just ignored her. Strange, because i just needed to let her shine. Yesterday, after a long sleep without any dreams i woke up and sat down at my table. There was the beginning of a drawing i wanted to finish.
I wrote earlier about my holidays in France and the view i had from the camping. Everyday i stood there watching this wonderful view and imagining that there must have been Celtic women on this spot searching the horizon for their beloved ones on sea. (there was an old Celtic settlement nearby this spot) It was fun to fantasize about this. One evening i started to draw such a lady. I hadn't finish it there, so i took this dream home. And now she was laying in front of me, patiently waiting. But i couldn't finish this drawing. Yet. So i turned the page. There were marks on this page from the celtic lady. Pressed through, almost invisible lines. I started working, using these lines. And there appears the sister of the Celtic lady. Darker, much darker. She must be the desires and pain of my lady. Hiding in darknes, waiting for the light to let her shine. As i finished this drawing, i imediately worked on my Celtic lady. Now i also could finish her story.

Everything seems so very, very distant

Everything seems so very, very close

Slow moving

I haven't painted for awhile and even not drawing also. That's not a good sign but i trust i soon will be able to create some new worlds. So because my lyrics are liked, i am brave enough to share another one with you.

SLOW MOVING

He fellt a terrible weakness
She moved in an intense way
The sky above was cloudless
Her eyes had too much to say

WHERE IS HE NOW?

She fellt the effect of the full moon
He looked at her too long
She showed him what's inside her mind
He couldn't believe what he saw

WHERE IS HE NOW?

She won't cry his name
But then he made no moves
She sank into her own little world
as if she hadn't been there

WHERE IS SHE NOW?

Lyrics

I used to sing in a band, years ago. I wrote the lyrics for our songs. I would like to share these lyrics with you. They are not very good in a poetical (and i think in a grammatical way) and sometimes i just used simple lines because i had to sing them. But it was a challenge to tell a story in short, simple lines. :-D I always tried to tell little stories, just like my drawings. So just for fun i'll share them with you. I am looking for a way to upload the music in my computer, so in time you also can hear what we did that time. If there are some huge grammatical or ugly faults in these lyrics don't be shy to point that out to me. I really will appreciate it.

The first lyric i wanna share with you could be a sister of my drawing The strange hours. I just noticed that they wonderfully fit together.

BRIGHT

She was so hot, so flushed

Dominated by impatience

It strongly took hold of her

She cannot explain why.

Like a priestess she looked

watching you with strange eyes

Inside her burned a bright fire

crackling wonderful hymns.

She was intense silent

Her hands were spread upon him

Moving slowly, moving down

Doing all kind of amazing things.

Blame me!

Blame me if you like

It gives me pleasure to warm you.

Go to sleep darling, sleep

i'll give you

ME

*

The strange hours

Ha! No idea which ghost from Bretagne whispered this image in my ear. She looks a bit on an insect lady but we didn't have trouble with bugs. The rocks and menhirs were the inspiration for the background. I love this lady very much and was very surprised as she showed herself. :-)
I wish you all an inspired weekend!

All that i have lost

Sometimes Most of the time i find it hard to explain the meaning of my drawings and paintings. The image develops while creating it. I don't make sketches etc. at first, i start drawing or painting and my thoughts and emotions of that moment lead my hand. Or so it seems. For paintings and the mixed media work i mostly have a topic in my head. Like the 'Blood on the floor' series. But i work very instinctively. Music and poetry are often triggers, i'm very inspired by it.
I felt sad and lonely on vacation and this is what appeared on paper, in the middle of the night, only the sound of the sea and the wind and me drawing.....