Debbienho !

Over the weekend my baby felt neglected. So we went out on a date. It’s been a millennium since I drew anything, so it had to be something really simple. My favourite artist said all good artists draw by layering. I think that means adding layer after layer (after layer) before going to details. (I always do details first. What would he do if we met? The agony!)   I decided to go with that, although, because he said all good artists, if I hadn’t heeded him, nothing would’ve changed with the rotation of the earth. So I went with it. Very conservatively. She seems cross. What did I do? Details are coming to Kofikrom. (If you notice the change of light, it’s because I took a break to watch Gavrilova clinch her first WTA title. [Yasss!] If you don’t notice a change of light, continue eh.) (My nieces want me to buy them a tennis racket. Each. Reason? They don’t have. I didn’t have a tennis racket at either of their...

Hellooo. *waves* By now you know that when I start a post like that it’s going to be neither wordy nor sensible. I should probably stop shooting myself in the foot like that. About a month ago I showed my Mom a drawing. It was a hyper-realistic work of art made (by Kelvin Okafor; check him out on Twitter if you can) that had me drop my jaws. It was amazing! I saved it, and went to my old girl to get her to appreciate it with me. She squinted at my phone and said, ‘You now you don’t draw again.’ Ah. Like, just appreciate the thing eh. In her defense, the last time I completed a  drawing   was in April. I know. My record is iiimpressive. So… I drew. Again. Yaay. I’m sorry she doesn’t have fingers. Seriously. (Took about three hours—some of whose minutes I spent running around my hall, going to the kitchen and saying out loud that I was hungry, dressing up to go and buy roasted plantain, returning home in frustration because ther...

Sigh freed.  Thank God. 

I drew an Indian woman. Oh. I rephrase: I attempted drawing an Indian woman. (For my self-esteem’s sake, her name is [conspicuously] withheld.) I was excited, brimming with vim right down to the tips of my toes. I had a new sketchbook, and most of my pencils were obedient. I was mastering shading and blending, lightening and darkening, making wisps and block lines. There was nothing I could not do. I could conquer the world! The annoying ‘Small girls are young’ had never been this true . Halfway through the right eye, I wanted to give up. How I did not, is a complete miracle. It may be a while before I draw again. 

Oh happy new year, by the way. If you’ve made resolutions, all the best keeping them! Thankfully I’m off the bandwagon of new year resolution makers, like I’ve been for a long while now. Not because I think they’re a bad thing—it’s nice to make good plans for yourself. I just find it adds a ton of pressure to my life when I look at those lofty goals I set for myself, and consider all I have to do to make it happen. In the end I fold, frustrated, and wait for December 31 st to make new resolutions. So I’d rather just take the days as each one comes, making tiny contributions and tiny plans. Seems a lot more practical to me than the entire ‘New year, new me’ biz. So I drew something. Yaay. First, because I had the privilege/ misfortune of showing an enemy of mine an old drawing I did, and he’s been bugging me ever since to draw again. But the bigger reason is, I came across this quote that scared the everything out of me: “I have offended God and mankind because my work did...

So I got bored and drew Jolie. From Wanted . I figured if I couldn’t replicate her train stunt I might as well still keep some memory of her. So there. (Ignore the outline of clothes in the white parts.) (Ignore the 60s look the picture has.) (Ignore the picture.) P.S. A gun was supposed to appear. It didn’t. I got lazy and stopped after doing the hair. Don’t judge me. Or…maybe judge me, if you want. Anas is coming.