Nevermore
07-14-2008, 07:40 AM
Yep, I'm chatty! I did finish a Sbarge (sp?) last night and posted it and then went to catch up in the gallery and found that Marie had used the same inspirational piece and that we had both used some Christine Renee. How quirkily coincincidental is that? But her bowl had a villianous male and a fish and mine felt fruit. Felt fruit, felt silly after seeing the man and the fish! A marvellous juxtaposition! I knew going in that this was not my thing but wanted to play. I can do simple and do it a lot. But apparently not with collage. I find it very difficult. The reason I gave it a go last night was because of the amazing pieces showing up in the gallery but it just doesn't flow for me. I think I would have to do a lot of direct scraps first, more or less copying, to try to get the feel. I don't know why I can't do this stuff (and won't torture you for too much longer on the point).
I did make my own fruit bowl. I have Illustrator but have not bothered to transfer the license to the Mac because I can't use it, not even with a "Dummy" book at my elbow. I do like playing with vectors and may mess with that a bit more but Photoshop is probably way more than enough for me. I will leave Illustrator on the PC for Max.
I had a nightmare last night of the old variety (I went through a bad stage of them in March and April). So horrific I woke up. In it, Max and I were living in an Orwellian/Huxley world. But with much more direct nasty overtones. They were herding us up, promising good things but what they did was burn the childrens' heads and then implant switches. They randomly assigned values to the switches. Some kids would survive and thrive and some kids would be tortured, experimented upon and then killed. They had purple switches. I saw Max leaving the place where they did this and wanted to reach him to hug and comfort him. He smiled at me across a great distance, got jostled by the crowd and turned around and I saw that the switches on the back of his head were purple. O man, I jackknifed out of bed. Unlike my previous nightmares I know exactly what fed this one. Max had told me that before he goes to sleep he imagines high tech other worlds and that he does all the voices in that world. And in my latest Photoshop tutorial book, there is a lesson on turning a man into a robot. I have an amazing photo of Max on his trike when he was three. With helmet. I think it might be a good place to start with the transformation. I do have to scrap this one
I did make my own fruit bowl. I have Illustrator but have not bothered to transfer the license to the Mac because I can't use it, not even with a "Dummy" book at my elbow. I do like playing with vectors and may mess with that a bit more but Photoshop is probably way more than enough for me. I will leave Illustrator on the PC for Max.
I had a nightmare last night of the old variety (I went through a bad stage of them in March and April). So horrific I woke up. In it, Max and I were living in an Orwellian/Huxley world. But with much more direct nasty overtones. They were herding us up, promising good things but what they did was burn the childrens' heads and then implant switches. They randomly assigned values to the switches. Some kids would survive and thrive and some kids would be tortured, experimented upon and then killed. They had purple switches. I saw Max leaving the place where they did this and wanted to reach him to hug and comfort him. He smiled at me across a great distance, got jostled by the crowd and turned around and I saw that the switches on the back of his head were purple. O man, I jackknifed out of bed. Unlike my previous nightmares I know exactly what fed this one. Max had told me that before he goes to sleep he imagines high tech other worlds and that he does all the voices in that world. And in my latest Photoshop tutorial book, there is a lesson on turning a man into a robot. I have an amazing photo of Max on his trike when he was three. With helmet. I think it might be a good place to start with the transformation. I do have to scrap this one