The Song of daimon

Creativity is uncontrollable, something unpredictable. It overwhelms you, when you don’t expect it – the reason why I always carry a pencil and paper with me.
If I start a new artwork, it’s not often planned and I never know how and whether It will end. Actually, I never have great expectations when it comes to that topic, because the way is the important thing not the finished product. That’s the reason why I try to go more into the creative phase, to document the “real” art, not what you can see finally.

What I simply  called “creativity”, got in a discussion with Farphyni a much more appropriate name. She called it The Song, which comes and goes. If you allow it, it’ll take you away.

daimon is a great opportunity to show you, how I work and how it can get out of control.
I just start working, don’t make a plan or made tons of sketches. Sometimes a scribble is the previous stage to a final project, but I never intend. The sense of putting the picture off my head to paper is to process the topic while drawing. It’s a one time thing and it doesn’t matter whether sketch, drawing or painting. It’s seldom that the song remains, if you already banned it on paper.
The beginning of a drawing or painting without plan, sketches and concept is really unexciting. Also I never had all the structures in mind, which arise. I’m not a fan of clear lining and structuring when it comes to creation of a work. I scribble rough what I had in mind and use each line of the chaotic sketch. So “fails” doesn’t exist. The structures of the sketched lines are those of the image, each single line will be used. I just make them darker and add areas and shadows.

Part One, which I started in may, was finished quickly, but was the most stubborn part. (I guess I needed between 24 and 48 hours – not easy finding out, when you lose the sense of time – but maybe longer, afterwards I corrected a lot especially in relation to Part Two.) Neverthless Part One went in one go (almost).
I noticed it with the last lines and areas of Part One, how the song vanished and only worked in short sessions between 1 to 2 hours on it. Until beginning/mid-september nothing happened anymore, but I also hadn’t the feeling to put it away and bury it.
The rest of Part Two and Part Three was easier, although I struggled a bit with anatomy and the concept of the second dog. I finished both parts in two sessions, for the second half of Part Three I’ve an approximate time indication: ~8 hours (10 or 11 episodes of Law & Order) of simple lines and a bit of shading.

The techniques and materials I used aren’t new: a mechanical pencil 0,3mm, hardness B was used most – for the background smudged with a brush. For the Nightwalker and the Ash Dog I used a piece of graphite, hardness 9B, which also got smudged with a brush.

No plan leaves room for development. I’m sure that an picture which evolves by it’s own is not intended by most of the artists. It happens often that the result is something else, than I planned – with the consequence of dissatisfaction. After completion, it lay some time, the vision, I had in mind, faded and vanish and only the finished work will left. Dissatisfaction turns into acceptance – I see a work in a different way, without the previous idea in my head. After the ‘uncontrolled’ phase, I work a little bit in rational way on it: Looking if everything is coherent, a uniform contrast or if I miss something. The chronological order of ‘irrational’ and ‘rational’ way changes, depending on the size. I’m a detail-obsessed person and I tend to miss the forest for the trees. The larger the image, the more often I look for the distance, to get a glimpse of the unit of lines, areas, shadows and details. For daimon it means, I stand up every few minutes, walk away, looked at it, continued working. In the end the whole artwork should work as overall picture and not as pile of details. It ends with signing, the feeling of emptyness, which never change and the vanishing in a wallet.