Characters

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I’ve had half a mind for a while to start designing some characters, and now that university is over, job applications are flying out left and right and there’s nothing to do but wait I finally have the time to do it!

Played around with a few colours and decided to make it more vibrant by doing turning it into a GIF. Learned a new skill while at it as well. Maybe I’ll go into 2d animation next (although I do realize GIF’s and animation are nowhere near on the same continent, but I did enjoy making something move, even if just the colours. I’m already getting excited at the prospect of the actual illustrations moving!)

Winter

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Winter is here so I thought I’d be cheesy for once and write a post about it.

I have to start by being frank: my relationship with winter is the love-hate kind. I love fairy lights and Christmas fairs. I love gloves and scarves and mulled wine. I love snow. I love the fact that the air seems cleaner and fresher – whether that is because it’s cold or it’s really cleaner I don’t know, though I suspect the former.

I hate it when the snow melts into a muddy mess. I hate having a runny nose. I hate wearing a thousand layers and the fact that my feet are perpetually cold. I hate wind and most of all, I hate the extreme cold.

I have a funny way with The Cold. Generally I’m always two degrees colder than the rest of the world, so in winter that really comes at a disadvantage, especially in the beginning. When it first jumps from chilly to freezing (because there’s never an in-between), I spend a couple of days in shock, hating my life and wishing that I lived somewhere where it’s always warm.

However, after you get used to it, cold is fascinating.

You get out of the house protected by a warmth shield. In a few minutes though, that shield starts to dissolve and suddenly you’re exposed, and you think “Shit. It’s freaking freezing”. Maybe you should’ve put that extra sweater on. A few minutes more and the numbness fades away: your body temperature has now stabilized. You realize that perhaps it’s not that cold. You can’t feel it. You know it’s cold – you bury your nose in your scarf now and then when you can’t feel the tip anymore – but it’s bearable. You actually enjoy the clean air and steamed breath. You puff steam away a few times (every time you pass by a lamp post if it’s night and if you’re me).

So maybe you can’t spend hours outside feeling comfortable. But half an hour walk might be enough.

If you freeze, you can always stop for some mulled wine.

Trees

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I love trees. Whenever there’s a lot of trees around, even if I’m by myself I don’t feel alone. There’s something so wise and so calming about them, a sort of peace that I try and fail to employ in everyday life. There’s this amazing tree outside my house, right across the street, that for the past week or so has been changing colors with the seasonal trend. It reached its peak sometime yesterday. I’d been saying I would put it on paper for a while but I kept postponing in in favor of work. However, when I saw the bright pink, green, yellow, the transition of these amazing colors in every leaf, I put my projects on pause and painted it as best I could, though it doesn’t do it justice.

I call him Evan. Don’t know why, but it feels like the name suits him.

Lines

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A quick sketch I made as I was sitting waiting for the food to cook. I have been experiencing what I call a “Lines Day”, aka a day when I cannot focus on doing any idea-based illustration; a day when I feel like drawing something good, yet I can’t think of anything to draw; a day when whenever pen touches paper I end up with lines that are usually worthy of the trash bin. A Lines Day.

Sometimes, however, something good comes out of lines, if you keep at it.

http://idanila.com/Sketch-book

 

Sketching in cafes

While in the famous city of Barcelona I did a lot of walking around, but also a lot of sitting down. Upon reflection, I wonder at all the time spent in cafes, pubs and restaurants. The time spent in various such venues during one week of vacation probably equals the amount I usually spend doing that over the course of two years. Which is saying something. And while there wasn’t much time to draw, with there being so much to see and do, I managed to squeeze in a doodle or two in-between order and food arrival.

I also noticed how beautifully unique each place was designed. The interior often created such a pleasant atmosphere it even made me forget the place might be a bit pricey. And one of the most important elements of this design is the lighting. I was so amazed I spend a lot of the time reproducing the lighting fixtures – which in all honesty were real works of art. Here’s two of them, which I edited afterwards to give them some of the leftover feeling of the places. The one on the left is at a small coffee shop in a quiet side street, away from the sun (though the ac was on full power and I left the shop feeling a bit like a fake of snow). The one on the right is at a fancy tapas restaurant just outside the hotel, where I went several times because of the very good margaritas and tortillas. The green probably describes it best, since the whole decorum reminded me a bit of a contemporary mountain retreat, with lots of wooden furniture and different garden chairs for every table. Also, I always went there for the evening tapas, away from the heat of the day.

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I absolutely had to catch on paper this (down) tiny espresso-size coffee cup that really did provide a nice finishing touch to the whole atmosphere of a small cafe/tapas place outside Basilica de Santa Maria del Pi. Well, maybe not coffee per se – the drink was called a Bonbon, and it was one of the most amazing things I have ever had to drink in my life, and I usually don’t go for sweet coffee. This one was a shot of condensed milk and a shot of espresso (Also, Spanish coffee is strong!!):

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All in all, the places to eat and drink are a cultural affair. If you’re not one for museums, at least visit as many of those as you can.

The streets are alive 

Barca_bikeYou never get lost in Barcelona – at least in the Gothic center of the city. Not because of a brilliant signage system (because in fact there are no signs whatsoever telling you what the next corner brings)but because the narrow streets and alleyways flanked on each side by tall buildings and bombarded by natives, tourists, children, dogs, kiosk and shops selling everything from jewellery to food – all of these seem to lead to the same plazas or to the unique famous Las Ramblas.

We stayed at a hotel. However, it wasn’t a high class, five star hotel, devoid of any culture or Catalan fragrance. It was a cheap, clean, fairly new hotel occupying the whole of the second floor of a 60’s apartment building located an arm’s length away from the port. The staff acted as receptionists and maids alike, working round the clock and yet always smiling and happy. We had to switch three rooms because the portable air conditioners were old and grumpy, but each room was clean and well kept. We walked down the road each morning to have breakfast at a fancier hotel, however felt a bit like a native leaning out the old style balcony and looking at the somewhat distant pavement when we came back.

Never having been much of a morning person (my partner being even worse than me at waking up in the wee hours) each day we would exit the hotel at the lazy hour of 10 (or more often 11, sometimes even 12). That left us with about 3 hours of roaming the streets until the afternoon sun hunted us down and we finally complied with the local habit and went back for a refreshing siesta. Thus, we would walk down very large boulevards and open plazas towards the narrow alleyways leading into the town center.

The streets feel like a completely different universe from the rest of it, and as you advance deeper into the maze it gets livelier and livelier. It cannot be said that all them alleys smell like roses, but all of them are cool and provide a much needed respite from the sun.

Deeper and deeper you go and from just a couple of breakfast places, laundry shops and people walking their dogs, the streets seem to gain personality. It feels a bit like walking backwards into someone’s life, starting with them old and advancing into their crazy youth.

More and more shops sprung up. Spanish is accompanied by Hungarian, English, Japanese, Chinese, German, Italian and what not – you name it. Soon you are moving along with the street, an individual and yet a part of the current.

One other aspect of these amazing streets is – it doesn’t matter how well you’ve learned them and how well you know the way. Once the sun starts setting and the shops close it’s a whole different map. The streets change so much you end up having to learn it all again.

And if you’re short of cash and looking for an art gallery, do wander these streets after closing time. They have a habit on painting graffiti on the garage doors of the shops, most times seemingly painted by the owners themselves to reflect what the business is. It’s an ad hoc, free way of expression, so often beautifully executed and taken for granted.

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So next time you’re in Barcelona, do all the touristic stuff, take the culinary adventure, hit the beach hard. But make sure you do go see the side streets. They’re a lively one.

Ioana 🙂

On the go 

I am currently in the tiring process of moving out. I have been for a couple of days, and as a result I just feel like I’ve been living a loooooooong day – the longest day anyone’s ever lived. Eat, shower, pack, carry, laptop, eat, work, nap (sleep), repeat. 

However, I know I will feel very fulfilled when I am finally done. That’s always the case. 

Another thing that I have noticed happens when I move out, or change scenery or anything similar, is that I feel very creative. Which leads me to the topic of this post: change resuscitates creativity. 

Everyone says change is good and everyone agrees it’s hard. For some reason we are built to want to stay as we are, perhaps it’s a primal instict,  sort of ‘here we have good weather, good food, good shelter, therefore we should stay.’ But as we are intellectual beings, we need more than those three survival basics. And while our bodies are fine in that environment, our minds need more. 

When you change something as drastic as the place you live in, (and once you give up the fear and perhaps sadness of leaving the old place) looking forward is exciting and new and fresh. I feel full of adventurous energy which fuels a brand new surge of creativity. That’s probably why I have finally found it in me to start this blog now, as I am moving out. 

Every tine I move (and as an international student in UK I have moved a lot) I get back to my basics – to who I really am, not clouded by all the clutter that invariably settles when you stay in one place for too long. And I like that, because that is when I am most creative and alive. 

You don’t have to move or travel if you can’t or don’t like to. What I am saying it that even moving the laptop from the right side of the desk to the left one will give you a kick if you’re creatively stuck. 

Till next time, 

Ioana ✌