Art Practice - 2023, 19

A third of a set of heads with more detail this time. Some of these are repeated, because I don't filter out the ones I already used. I'm actually reasonably happy with how these came out, so maybe this is the last full set of heads I'll do in a while. That's good as well, because I'm not sure what I'm even meant to say for practice like this, if I can't find any aspects I'm unhappy with. Says a bit about terminal artist brain, doesn't it?

Well, I did find something to add after all. Last week's poem was bleak and though I don't personally like springtime, I think it'd be unfair to only write depressing stuff in regards to the season, so I'm hoping this one will come out a little more life-affirming.

The days grow less gray and less dreary,

the woodlands awakens, less weary,

the land is alive now once more

"It's springtime!" the birds sing "Encore!"

Shy sunlight shines gentle and soft

and even the rain holds aloft

the spirits of snowdrops' return.

New promises we will discern.

There's joy in the thumping of rain,

at night on the dark window pane,

as pollen, light, flown on a breeze

won't always then force me to sneeze