My life prior to this project did not have an adequate amount of ink drawings. Needless to say, I have fixed this problem.
When I told people that I was planning to make ink drawings, some of them were under the impression that I was going to make drawings out of ink. No, no, no. There is not a drop of ink in any of these drawings because they are made out of charcoal. And I have, over the course of this project, developed a lot with charcoal; I first befriended the medium in the first drawing I made (the one in the middle that looks vaguely like an upside down brain). We bonded over the 2nd and 3rd drawings (The two leftmost ones), getting along very well, telling jokes, laughing, singing shanties, mutually helping each other hide bodies, preforming Juju rituals, and all the things friends usually do. By the end of the 4th picture (bottom left) we were getting somewhat bored of each other. The charcoal became very passive aggressive, irritable, and in one particular argument about what the plural of mongoose was, even violent. It began to try its best to foil my attempts to draw ink. "Good heavens," I would exclaim, reaching for the pencil sharpener. "Your bluntness is simply disadvantageous!" "Who are you calling blunt ?" it would respond, spitefully and repeatedly crumbling upon contact with the sharpener. Our friendship was finally broken by the end of the fifth drawing (the top right, totally-covered-in-charcoal one), when I saw the charcoal chanting in ancient tongues at my art. "Ka mmụọ nke nkà ike ike na manụ agba mgbanwe gị ngota!" it said. I burst through the door. "Is this betrayal in my midst?" I say. "A juju ritual summoned against me?" The charcoal laughed. "You fool," it cackled. "you are too late, the ritual has just completed!" "Why would you do this?" The charcoal looked away. "I could not tolerate the tyranny of your pluralization of platypi." I had an idea. The ritual it was performing could not be sustained without the caster; I grabbed the charcoal and threw it into a small, plastic prison. I gave it one final look and shut the box. "I think you meant platypuses." And that is the tragic tale of how my skills in charcoal so dramatically improved, while my friendship with it so dramatically declined.
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January 2015
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