Art is hard. Any form of it, and I think that is a worldwide accepted fact. Lately I have to remind myself this and shut out the heavy heart that follows criticism. I have to fight through wanting to give up, drop the brush and pencil, again. Long ago, I forgot what it felt like to have fun with, to enjoy, art and not want to cry because I didn’t get a “wow” or “that’s really good!” I actually began to hide my artwork because I felt the need to protect myself; I poured all my emotions at the time into my pieces and to be told that they needed to be corrected translated into something else.
What I got was that I drew too many skeletons. My work was too stylized.
I started to get angry. I wanted to shout that they weren’t saying Picasso worked in cubism too often, Monet painted too many landscapes, Jacob Lawrence did too many collages, and Andy Goldsworthy should do something other than Land Art.
My escape, my way out of pain, who I was through paint didn’t need to be corrected. There is no correct personality.  I held onto that thought for a very long time but I also stopped drawing and slowly I have stopped painting.
However… I am beginning again but this time I am seeking help from books. Books don’t tell you what to draw and how often you should draw it– they show you methods of how to draw. That’s what’s important. So I will draw as many messed up faces, skeletons, stylized scenes, and paint non-symmetrical paintings as I damn well please.


One Step Forward.

When do we lose out confidence? How does it happen? Why do we let things get to us?

Things have not been easy for me lately and the self hatred has been mounting. It has been impacting my grades and health more than I want to admit, so, instead of caving any further to my insecurities, I’m going to list my good qualities.

Sasha: “Smart, funny, playful, caring, creative, musical, lovely, lively, and loving.”
Deante: “Generally awesome.”

I’m a damn good writer. I make errors but I know how to grab a reader’s attention. I can play four instruments if you count my voice. I’m a good painting, sketch artist, potter, and designer. I write good songs and poems. I have a long memory. I can pull off wildly eccentric outfits. I have a talent for writing in Spanish. I know a lot about fitness, nutrition and mental health. I’m a great photographer and editor. I can bake like no ones business. I know a lot about animals and can usually recognize what animal by their bones. I’m good with History. Even though I suck at testing, I’m really good at math. I have wicked deduction skills. I’m good with cars, house repairs, and manual labor. I can work a hundred and five hour work week. I’m a natural at horseback-riding and driving. I’m strong mentally and physically. I’m loyal.


I’m not worthless. 

Paints and Muffins.


I’m going to try to paint this today (a photo I took). The base will be water color, so I can get the base right, then the final layers will be oil. I need acetone for some of my brushes, though, because they have enamel paint on them. Yeah, I’m not one of those artists who has the right kind of paintbrush for every medium. I work with what I have and if that means using watercolor brushes with oil paints, then… well, you get the point. 

I also decided to bake today, which I haven’t done in a while. I felt out of it. I forgot two ingredients but they weren’t win or bust ingredients. I made omelette muffins and I forgot the cheese and garlic, so I made a garlic butter and will top the muffins with cheese. There, problem solved. I don’t really care for cheese in my eggs anyway. 

I will take pictures of how they came out and insert them into a end-of-day post. 


Sick Skele.

(Skip to Today for news.)

Running up to Scintilla, I’m going to tell you about myself in case you are new to my blog. Where to start? I think why I chose The Ink Skeleton for my name would be good. 
   I chose it because skeletons hold meaning for me, not the emo-I-think-I’m-so-cool meaning. You see, my mother is an artist and she went to UT for it where she learned about the basics of art. Well, when I was ten I asked her to teach me how to draw people realistically (an art from I valued then and now above most). She told me that people, like a house, you start with the foundation: Skeleton. She gave me a pencil, kneaded eraser, ten by five piece of paper, anatomy book and told me to draw.
  “One thing we are told in art school is to copy the masters. Copy this drawing.” She added and I drew. I didn’t stop until I was proud of what was before me and when I was, I realized something I’m not sure any ten year-old should realize. I felt like that skeleton; scary to most, hollow but I was there and I was who I was. I was real, I’d never hide who I was and that is what made me and the skeleton beautiful. 
    Why The Ink Skeleton and not The Pencil Skeleton? After that first drawing, I never stopped drawing them and much to my mom’s irritation, they would frequently be in pen. They would also be on lined paper. Some of my mom’s favorites are on lined paper which is bad because they have high amounts of acid, so they will eventually fall apart.
My tag-line, “One day you will understand why I paint myself.”, is in reference to how not only drew on paper but myself and now I have a tattoo–I want more. Some of those around me don’t understand why I get tattoos and thus, my tag-line. My header is the first skull I painted and my pride.  


I’m sick, like horrible vomiting sick with even more trouble breathing. So I am lying in my bed with coffee and listening to the You’ve Got Mail Soundtrack. I regret my words Thursday where I said I prefer to get sick on the weekends, and now here I am, sick during spring break. Although, I don’t regret them because being sick is helluva lot better than having to go to school. The thing that really sucks: I can’t sleep like I want to because of my nose. 

Uncomfortable Skele is uncomfortable.

I do have awesome news, though! Mom found a half-buck skull about the same size of my first, if not a little bigger. As well as a dog skull, spine, rib bones and two vulture skulls. Pictures to come.