WIND NO.7

Attacked By The Cat Wind:

WIND NO.6

The Sleepy Wind:

WIND NO.5

The Invisible:

WIND NO.4

For Star Wars Day, The Cathedral of Winds:

WIND NO.3

Literally:

WIND NO.2

WIND NO.1

Hello again!

Now that the stitched portrait project has been over for a few months I've had time to work on some other things and focus on ideas for the future. But I've missed the daily process of doing SOME ONE THING on a daily basis. It was difficult to keep up for a whole year, but the doing forced me to find things in a way that is similar to school but better - because it was self driven. I learned about some of the most interesting people ever and read a lot of books, watched many films, and generally made myself smarter by drawing one thing in this way, everyday. And then, once all of the little pieces came together in a visual and sequential way - I was blown away.

I've been hesitant to begin again, but stumbled across a new subject that has been interesting me - How do you draw wind? Over the next month I will attempt to answer this question day by day throughout May.

And May seemed perfect because of this:

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Winds of May

Winds of May, that dance on the sea,
Dancing a ring-around in glee
From furrow to furrow, while overhead
The foam flies up to be garlanded,
In silvery arches spanning the air,
Saw you my true love anywhere?
Welladay! Welladay!
For the winds of May!
Love is unhappy when love is away!

- James Joyce

Thank you for listening.
Day one, 5/1/2013:

Stitched Portraits: Alan Rickman

(b. Feb. 21, 1946) The first portrait I made in this collection was George Washington, on his birthday. That was Feb. 22, 2012. Alan Rickman marks the end of the project and he will play us out, reading from Shakespeare's sonnets, here:

My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips' red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damask'd, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.

- SONNET 130, William Shakespeare

And to close, Alan Rickman (as Colonel Brandon):