Every artist finds inspiration in different ways.
Some dream it. Others pry beauty from otherwise ordinary things. Still others wander the world in eternal search of it.
As for me, inspiration recently walked right up and slapped me in the face. Quite by accident, I collided with an artist whose style and creative medium is so different than my own. Her art tore me out of my miniature creative rut, lighting a new fire beneath me.
I could go on and on about how and why we decided to smash our styles together. Why we believed mixing her paper sculptures and my deep, dark color would work.
But instead I’ll just show you…
Our first collaboration was…naturally…a demon inspired by my kid…
It went like this: my six-year old described a monster he wanted on his wall. I listened closely and sketched a rough draft. And then T. Morrison (the aforementioned amazing artist) poured herself a big bowl of water and lightweight spackle (and another bowl of Cream of Wheat for sustenance) and hand sculpted our deadly demon friend.
When she finished a few days later, we turned the demon over to my kid, who slathered it up with blacks, reds, golds, and whites.
Meaning this piece was created by three artists, not just two.
Then T. Morrison decided to get serious.
Her next piece (which I’m calling Black Masque; she never names her art) is about as creepy and cool as it gets. Once again her mediums were lightweight spackle, wet paper (for the shawl) and acrylic paints.
I had no idea what to expect when I turned over this oval-shaped canvas to m’lady Morrison. But she delivered…and she even let me paint a few skeletal shadows in the background.
I love it. What do you think?
Soon enough, it was time for T. and I to engage in a true collaboration. No kids, no messing around.
On a 20″ x 20″ canvas, I sketched out a twisted tree. (It’s kind of my thing.) Afterward, Miss Morrison whipped up a BIG batch of sculpt-alicious spackle and turned my simple tree into a spooky three-dimensional monstrosity.
Here’s the progression:
1. Apply lightweight spackle atop my sketch.
2. Turn the piece over to me for background painting.
3. Sip vodka and pineapple juice while I pour on more colors.
And thus was born a piece we call ‘Haunted.’ It’s super vibrant. We liked the end result so much, we decided to sell prints here.
Next up, T. Morrison decided to put her patience to the test.
Lovingly (she uses the term loosely) T. sculpted three airships atop a blank canvas. The ships took hours to sculpt, requiring utmost care to carve out every little detail. Then…she decided to paint each one. Tiny brushes…tiny blobs of paint…and not-so-tiny sips of vodka.
I thought she might give up, and yet she persevered.
As for the background city, she insisted I paint it. Every cloud, building, and razor-sharp bridge component…mine all mine.
Storm City took us about a week.
Well worth the effort, we think.
Now then, here’s one that’s all T. Morrison. Other than a few color (or lack thereof) suggestions, I didn’t touch it.
And perhaps this piece is better for it:
Look at the folds in her cloak. Savor the deathly whites and deadly blacks.
Frozen Shade is my personal favorite piece of all the works T. Morrison has created.
As of the moment I pen this article, we’re working on several new sculpture/painting collaborations.
But perhaps none so dark as this one:
Ocular – a nice angle to see the 3D sculpture
Ocular – part skull, part tentacle, all scary. Sculpture by T. Paint by me.
For our final pieces, I’ll just leave them here. I did the backgrounds. T did the rest. Boom.
The horned girl is Infinity Queen. She’s available here. The angelic girl is Spirit of Regret. She’s available here.
We’ve got several more pieces lined up.
Including a spooky green-lit tree, a girl in a shawl, and more.
Visit us again right here at Tessera Guild to see what we’ve cooked up.
J Edward Neill
Author of Shadows