Return of the Scan

It has been three years since I posted face scans to this blog, and a solid eleven years since I started scanning my face! Time for more, right? Time to come back and crawl on top of the scanner bed like a mole.

So here I am, and I made a little friend to accompany me. I don't think I've changed too noticeably in three years, but I think the scanner has a way of making the similarities clear. The freckles on my face that are, apparently, permanent? I didn't really know, but here they are three, five, ten years later. Same is it ever was.

One strange thing about living is that "who you are" is a pretty esoteric question. There's something grounding about making these images and cataloguing a physical reality. Change is relative, and some things about you really never change. Still, I feel the weight of change a lot. Decisions happen, whether or not you're making them.

I got rid of my scanner some time ago. It was clunky to use, I was making digital art much more, and it was one of those big printer/scanner combos. I liked the space it left behind, and I didn't miss it - for the most part.

But after a while, every so often I would think about something, "hmm, it would be great if I could scan this". And so, finally, I got a new scanner. A small one that just plugs in and runs. You press the "scan" button on the side, and you don't have to think about anything else. You can have a new glass, and an old, familiar face.

And a paper friend, made strange through the merging of light and time. Not bad.

Skeletons

 Skeletons. Here they come.

In recent months I've been enjoying the humble, pointy, knobbly form of the human skeleton. A gracious creature, no doubt. There is something delightful about it. It's like a creature all its own.

It's sort of goofy-looking, this structure of ours. I'm not sure if my favourite part is the BIG back of the skull, or the hollow, protective ribcage, or maybe the lovely pelvis.

The very first skeleton in this post is quite distinguished, and I covered him generously in gold leaf. He's shiny and stunning. But I like all the variations in style here. I liked making more and less realistic skeletons. Quick and slow skeletons. Pensive and stupid skeletons.

Because you have to imagine, don't you, that something is going on inside the mind of a skeleton. That thing is alive, despite its abject deadness. The essence of life is not so much in the living as it is in the anthropomorphic capabilities of a shape. And the skeleton is perhaps the most anthropomorphically capable shape. Because it's just a lil' fella.

Teeth out, eyes hollow. Ready to take on the world.

So, what I'm saying is, more skeletons may follow. They should.