All posts tagged: sketch

Figurefigureform

BRADEN SPEAKS: Personally, I don’t understand how people live without figure drawing. In my humble opinion there is nothing more interesting and stimulating than drawing another human being. ABOUT BRADEN: Born and raised in Los Angeles. Preparing to migrate to New York City to attend the Cooper Union.

Jaundice, A Jaunt, Jaune: John

ABOUT JOHN:  “I’m a 20 old year art student from Colombia. I live in Bogota and my favorite color is yellow. Every time my grandma stares at my face, she says I’m yellow and my name tells it too. John, as people know me, is Jaune in french , and in spite of not having a relation with french stuff , Jaune means:  John and Yellow at the same time, so I use it as my nickname . Artworks themselves are already too revealing for also having your real name into exposure.” John Celis, 2015. Mixed media. JOHN SPEAKS*: “My work is just composed of drawings, because even though sometimes I use paint , I just keep in mind that I should be drawing. Aside from other things, like showing skills or concepts, I want my work to be honest about who I am and with how I think , and for me drawing is the media where I can achieve that . This is because drawing is immediate, there’s no time for any lies in …

who·lee·ah: an interview

All words and artwork by Julia Rocha, a senior in high school. Scroll below for an exclusive interview. Self Portrait Along the Borderline between Mexico and the United States Daughter of Frida Daughter of Diego Thought to have been born a mess of mangled appendages, Years later, she reassembles herself. Sewing together baby arms baby legs She emerges fractured and triumphant. Digging herself out of the ground– Her skin covered in chocolate dirt, Finding herself in a desert, She takes after the cacti that grow around her: Never succumbing to thirst. For five years she walked Tiny feet encrusted in burning sand She did not plan to stop walking Until one day, a fence sprouted like a weed: Wrapping itself around her. A metal barricade Tear streaks of rust engraved on its surface She finally stops walking Curled up in the shade of the wall She sleeps for the first time. The first few nights she dreams of sunflowers, Dreams of yellow petals towering over her Covering her like weightless blankets. One night she dreams of …