• Kat Johnston Sketch: One might think that she is headless, yet her head exists right there. She is bodiless.
  • I was without a post yesterday, since the day simply swept me by from start to close. Thus, I provide to you now an image which will hopefully have another added later in the day, to make up for my tardiness with regards to yesterday’s sketch.

    I said I might present another of the ‘head’ pictures I happened to be sketching the other night – so here is the first that I drew… the other posted was the third. To begin with, like most of my images of faces, the eyes were drawn. The rest really went from there. The cut at the throat to sever the head from its unseen body was the last thing to be added, and a surprise even to myself.

    I find it an odd sensation when an image tells you the way it is to be treated. I am not sure that other people who draw or paint get the same feeling, but when I look at an image I can tell if it is ‘not quite right’, or ‘not quite there’. Sometimes then it is a move of instinct more than calculated rational thought that leads me to where the picture itself wishes me to go, to complete it.

    I still find it funny that I speak of my pictures, drawings and paintings as if they were people, who can speak back. I personify most anything, from toasters to toadstools, so I suppose it is little wonder that I do so with the creations I put forth myself.

    Cue the odd tangent now… I just had a thought. I am a creator of those sketches, those pictures and art pieces. Does that mean that I am a god to them? A divine being, to breathe life into something from paper and dust, canvas and ink? If, by some odd chance, each of the pictures were to go to a land where all the pictures and images I have drawn and painted go, would they worship me as their savour? Would they blame me for the nightmares which exist beside the dreams, while I sit entirely unknowing of the universe I have created through the stray wanderings of my fickle imagination?