My first experience with an airbrush ended somewhat disastrously, with a large, interesting square pattern outlined on the carpet of the office I was doing work experience in. I made a mental note not to dabble in the dark arts again.
But… things change, and the memory blurs over those little details, so when I was asked to airbrush a skull by a friend, I foolishly dived in and reunited myself with my tormentor. I spent months experimenting and exploring, finding myself frustrated at every turn by the fact that my airbrushings always looked like… airbrushings! Duh!
That was, of course, until I picked up my sable brush and ink in desperation and started overlaying colour with black lines. For some reason the addition of flowing lines pulled the work together. Dividing and flowing, defining and extending.
I was finally was at peace with my captor. Perhaps it was some form of Stockholm Syndrome that had kept me in its grasp for so long, and I won’t deny that it is a cantankerous companion, but when I finally succumbed to its demands, our relationship was sealed. We are now inseparable!
Acrylic on illustration board.