Last week's Illustration Friday theme was fleeting. Fleeting is: transient, ephemeral, fugitive, transitory, evanescent. We live, we die. We hold our life in our hands, then it pushes us down. The unimaginable comes true. Dark leads to light then back again. The wheels will always come off. The IF theme this week is impossibility. Same diff.
Take the example of Carl "The Truth" Williams. Never mind that he was a serious contender during some of the heavyweight division's best days, that he fought guys like Mike Tyson and Larry Holmes, that he once got up off the canvas twice to stop an undefeated Jesse Ferguson in front of a national television audience -- for my money, The Truth had the coolest nickname ever conceived for a professional athlete (only John "The Beast" Mugabi comes close). His 1985 fifteen-round loss to Holmes -- notable for being (a) questionably judged and (b) the last heavyweight bout ever scheduled for that long -- took the teeth out of his career. He retired in 1997 after losing a nothing fight, a fight where he "should have beaten that guy getting out of bed" (ultimately finishing with a record of 30-10-0 and 21 knockouts). By this time, Carl also should have had a million or two socked away under that very same bed. He didn't. Now he works as a security guard and goes to movies alone.
Through a very-stupid combination (I'm guessing) of pointlessly repetitive computer work, being completely tensed-up while playing Killer 7, dangling small children upside down and sleeping on it the wrong way (plus freezing because someone is an inveterate blanket-stealer), somehow I've fucked up my arm (and elbow, and shoulder, and neck ... by degrees). This is Day Two of Fucked-Up-Arm Syndrome; I'll let you know if it turns yellow, falls off.
On Good Friday morning C and I went down to Studio 330 to hang another set of paintings, which will be there until the end of the month. Afterwards we went for breakfast (where I had the French Toast ... and the bill).
Impossibility, of course.
Take the example of Carl "The Truth" Williams. Never mind that he was a serious contender during some of the heavyweight division's best days, that he fought guys like Mike Tyson and Larry Holmes, that he once got up off the canvas twice to stop an undefeated Jesse Ferguson in front of a national television audience -- for my money, The Truth had the coolest nickname ever conceived for a professional athlete (only John "The Beast" Mugabi comes close). His 1985 fifteen-round loss to Holmes -- notable for being (a) questionably judged and (b) the last heavyweight bout ever scheduled for that long -- took the teeth out of his career. He retired in 1997 after losing a nothing fight, a fight where he "should have beaten that guy getting out of bed" (ultimately finishing with a record of 30-10-0 and 21 knockouts). By this time, Carl also should have had a million or two socked away under that very same bed. He didn't. Now he works as a security guard and goes to movies alone.
* * * * *
Through a very-stupid combination (I'm guessing) of pointlessly repetitive computer work, being completely tensed-up while playing Killer 7, dangling small children upside down and sleeping on it the wrong way (plus freezing because someone is an inveterate blanket-stealer), somehow I've fucked up my arm (and elbow, and shoulder, and neck ... by degrees). This is Day Two of Fucked-Up-Arm Syndrome; I'll let you know if it turns yellow, falls off.
* * * * *
On Good Friday morning C and I went down to Studio 330 to hang another set of paintings, which will be there until the end of the month. Afterwards we went for breakfast (where I had the French Toast ... and the bill).
* * * * *
Impossibility, of course.
nice work and story.
ReplyDeleteWonderful drawing.
ReplyDeleteYour art looks good everywhere.
ReplyDeleteso beautiful watercolour, the lines, the colour, all beautiful!
ReplyDeletesad and nice
ReplyDelete