It's a weird fact, but whenever I blank on something to paint and I'm desperately hammering art out for a convention that's Right Around The Corner, my brain defaults to sea serpents.
This is weird, because while I have no problem with sea serpents, neither do I have any great passion for them--they're a sort of uninteresting cousin to dragons, so far as I'm concerned, and not even as exciting as, say, a plesiosaur in a party hat. Nevertheless, when the warning klaxons are klaxoning and the little red lights are spinning wildly and brain cells are running shrieking through the corridors of my brain, it's as if there's a little red glass-fronted box that says "IN CASE OF EMERGENCY, BREAK GLASS," but instead of a fire hose, it contains a tightly coiled sea serpent. And one of the brain cells, thinking more quickly than the rest, smashes it, and out glomphs the sea serpent in an oozing coil, onto the battered linoleum inside my skull.
Wow, that metaphor went all to hell, didn't it? Anyway, this was one for MFF, 8 x 10 mixed media, of a sea serpent who can't swim all that well and requires inflatable aids. This must be very humiliating for a sea serpent. On the other hand, I don't swim well myself, and I'm also scared of sock puppets, so maybe I'm using sea serpents to tap into my failures, which would be weird, but then, I'm a little odd.*
Anyway! Original for sale, prints available, drop a note or visit [link]
*Try to contain your shock.