I've been singing again. I stopped singing regularly more than 10 years ago, mainly for two reasons. First, I hardly liked any particular song at that time, except for a few old russian folk songs, charmingly meaningless. Second, I had such a lovely voice or something, that when I did my best, I just couldn't help crying, which obviously pissed me off (fortunately I never did my best on public for metaphysical singing is quite a dirty thing for a 17 year old girl to do on public). Now I've been singing again, but it's more like technical singing - I'm trying to play theremin vox and sing simultaneously, which was pretty hard at first. It's like having two throats and two voices, but only one pair of ears. And it has nothing to do with playing Bach on the piano - you cannot listen to both, the only way is to think of intervals, not tones. Well, I hope that will work.

Bathtime in Bonići

This one is called.. say "Bathtime in Bonići" - first, to make good the color, and second, well, it must have one name or another anyway, I guess.

Still There

I'm still there.

zoom in

The first one's always free

The first one's always free.

Retro

It's a two or three years old painting, and I was quite a different person then. Or I wasn't. Who cares? There's no me, if one comes to think of it.

De cara a la pared

"Against the wall". Feat natural (though dead) clover leave and "Z" letter cut from a piece of blue paper.

I bought a great deal of different paper and had a good sampling. Almost every kind is great for watercolor.

I still keep it

When I was a little girl (which I probably still am) we used to make what were called "little secrets" from every piece of broken glass we came across. You take some leaves, flowers, ribbons, pieces of paper - all that useless stuff that girls appreciate so much. You put it to the ground under the glass and then cover up with the earth. That's it. That's your secret.



Well, though I'm 30 now (according to records at least) I sometimes think I still keep it.

Dreaming

Obviously I'm not a graphic artist. Working on aquatint and etching step by step has introduced sad changes into the drawing.

Happy In Its Own Way

I made this one last week and I really like it, first, for it's so sad and second, for it's kind of 3D:

No style - no limits

You would be amazed to know that there're books written on how to develop a personal identifiable painting style. Oh God, I just don't need any.

Blow up

A friend of mine (who is a designer, which is probably of some consequence) told me the other day he likes dope mostly because it makes him so creative. He's just so quick, so full of ideas, he only has to take a piece of paper to put it down for further usage. Well, you know, I envy him. I have these creativity bursts all the time, with no stimulation. I see visions either awake or asleep, it just makes me sick sometimes. I'm haunted by unborn pictures that probably have been aborted by other artists and now want me to bring them into life. That's why I must get drunk now and then - drinking helps me to stop this constant flow of ideas that comes through my head.

I've been dreaming again

A quick sketch for a bigger one. It's so small that the fish in my hand is completely unrecognizable, and I'm planning to add some more details, like furs and feathers, which perfectly represents my feeling when just woken up.

Healthy Habits

Well, I kind of finished this one. It's called "Healthy Habits" and it has a piece of a diagram on it.

Detuned

I feel detuned.

A blog no one follows is like a dream no one sees.

No matter what I say I am, I'm ok.

Whistler and Russia

This one is called "Whistler and Russia", after a book, which it has nothing to do with, actually. It's always this way with me.

I don't fit in and I don't give a damn

A sketch for the bigger one which I'll most probably never have time to complete.