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I painted the above image titled “Blood from a Stone” (what seems like) a lifetime ago. It marks the last point in my life when I was more passionate, fearless and creative than the person that I am now. I literally bled for it, not in a figurative sense, but literally. Dracula would be lickin’ his chops.

Blood, that red sticky stuff. Now, before you start shrieking “ewww” or “strange”, let me explain a few things:

1. Don’t be silly, I used real paint (and whatever else I could throw at it). I had an accident with a thin double-edged razor blade that I used to score deep lines (texture) into the surface of the canvas. I’ll spare you the gory details about pissing blood like a haemophiliac. And YOU can spare me the jokes on cooties.
2. I don’t have an Angelina Jolie-like fetish for sharp pointy knives, however, I do have an obsession with getting adopted by Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt. I’m so much cuter than Maddox or Zahara.
3. I have never been a f***ked up, dysfunctional teenager into cutting myself to feel better or alive. Freak, eat a chocolate cupcake - yes, 300 calories, but no sharp blades and loss of blood either.
4. I get queasy at the mere sight of real blood, especially my own. It doesn’t help to be cursed with a nose that constantly bleeds.
5. Although I’m a maladjusted lunatic, I’m not so bonkers as Vincent Van Gogh that I’ll cut off my ear and give it to my friend. I go to stores to purchase gifts just like everyone else. I h(ear) they’re having a sale at Square One Shopping Centre. Yes, so corny.

I’m neither pretentious nor articulate enough to explain anything well - my feelings, thoughts and doodles, but I’ll try… Let’s start with the title, “Blood from a Stone” - it was partially inspired from the saying “you can’t get blood from a stone” . It characterizes something that is extremely difficult to get, similar to the phrase “water from the moon” . OK, maybe it’s not a good idea to explain that first because the title actually only came after the painting was finished. In fact, it practically named itself.

I initially wanted to do a sculpture with rock, but I didn’t have any chisels (any tools, actually) or a big block of granite. Undeterred, I got this idea to build up the texture (sort of a faked sculptural effect) by layering scrunched up paper on top of each other (like papier-mà¢ché) and then I scored the surface (and my hand, oh I’m feeling queasy) with blades. Yeah, that texture you see is not just painted on - it’s real. Click on the image to the left to enlarge photo. Can you see the layers and grooves?

I used all kinds of art materials (because I’m whacky) - watercolour inks, acrylic paints, ink pens, oil pastels, chalk pastels… and apparently, my own blood. My high school art teacher would really disapprove and yell, “Oil pastels, chalk pastels and blood don’t mix!” I started with the rock base and I was going to paint the entire thing in that gross yellow-brown colour until I started dripping blood on the canvas… and that’s when I got the idea to paint the two hugging men in more vivid hues of red, orange and yellow. I contrasted the central image with a crazy blue background (also “texturized”) so that the image would really pop off the surface.

Explain the image itself? Well, I’ve heard it described (from people who have seen it) as two sinewy rock-men growing or jutting from a big rock, trapped in a permanent homoerotic embrace… floating like a phallic object in a mad, mad sky. Yeah, whatever. Please don’t comment that you’d never hang it up on your wall because yes, I totally hear ya. I’m not going to bother with explaining the meaning any further as to do so would devalue it and besides, I’m so bored already with the artsy fartsy babble.

Anyway, I’ve been thinking lately (again, I know)… about that person that I once was. What happened to that person who was so fearless and didn’t put up so many walls? When something went wrong (like blood trickling everywhere, oh I’m feeling queasy again), that person didn’t just give up so easily. That person took a bad mistake and turned it 359 degrees into something else… sometimes, something better, inspired.

So, how do you draw blood from a stone, once again?

Here are more close-up photos of the painting. Click on a thumbnail image below to enlarge photo:

BTW, I’ve pulled out another version of that painting from my ass. I’ve deconstructed it to a simple black and white ink pen drawing. I like it a lot. Come back in a few days to see it! You know, I might still make that sculpture one day… if only I had a big enough block of cheddar cheese…

Wow, this is my 50th entry and it’s a long ass one at that! Oops!

Adieu,

bloodless orange fruity

P.S. Public service announcement: Kids, pain is not your friend. Sharp pointy things, bad.