Here are some bright red and blue journal pages. The angry yet soft colours. Does that make sense? I don't think that makes sense. Well, I don't need to make sense. I refute sense.
I think I've been kinda scribbly lately with my paintings and journal pages. It's just one of those times. The scribbly times. It's nice to step back and look at your scribbly-ness and enjoy it, perhaps whilst taking a delicious and leisurely sip of banana milk. That's what I'd recommend.
I also was compelled to paint around my hand. Is there any higher art form than this? No, there isn't.
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Thank you so much for your comments, especially if they include limericks about skeletons.
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