Another portrait, another day.

I'm having fun producing these little ditties, and they teach me a little something every time. I really need to loosen up and inject some painterly qualities into my digital work, but at least the likeness isn't bad. Maybe I'll get more adventurous with them soon, but the main goal is to be painting. Goal accomplished.

Anna and Mother's Syndrome

This is the original image I posted. I was so proud of it not three hours ago:

In science, there is a theory called the happiness theorem. It postulates that if a). woman is x). unhappy, then y). everyone is unhappy. It looks like this:

 x(a)     :(      =      x(y)      D:

I posted the art, I liked the art, I texted Anna proudly, and I received a text back saying only, 'Oh Lord.' And not the 'Oh Lord, thank you for this cornucopia that just fell from the sky,' more the 'Oh Lord, why hast thou seen fit to smite us?'

So I asked her what was wrong, and she said, "Is my nose really that giant and hooked?" And that's when I knew: I had Mother's Syndrome.

Mother's Syndrome is when you love a piece of art, you think it's the most wonderful piece ever, and you show it proudly to all the other parents. 'Look how beautiful she is, listen to how sweetly she sings,' you cry. And all the other parents smile tightly, avert their eyes, and plug their ears.

Some artists never get this. Some artists hate everything they do, which makes me wonder why they do art. I'm the opposite. Every newfangled piece I drool onto the canvas is my baby, and my baby is the BEST BABY IN THE WORLD.

It isn't always a lost cause, though. Most times, I've just stopped a few hours short, or failed put things together in enough places to throw it off. So I gave Anna the usual artist lingo for 'Yeah I effed up,' which is 'I meant to do that.' And, as per usual, I got over my motherly pride and fixed the darn thing.

So here's the update. Is it better? See for yourself. Is it done? Well, we all know what happened last time I said that. Rock-a-by baaaby in the tree top.....

P.S. Anna was very gracious, never once criticizing my work. The conversation above is edited for humorous purposes, and does not represent her humble and sensitive nature.

P.P.S If you scroll from one picture to the next and back again in rapid succession, it looks like she's bobbing her head and laughing.

Who you are.

Who am I?

A question every artist has to ask whenever they produce work. Who am I as an artist? What story do I want to tell? What are the images I want to produce?

Maybe that's why artists can seem so full of themselves. Also, artists are full of themselves.

This question follows every artist from the outset of their design until the final brushstrokes on their signature. Who do I want to be known as? Some artists have pen names, some use initials: C.F. Payne, N.C. Wyeth, Bansky, Android Jones, the list goes on.

I love artists like John Singer Sargent and John William Waterhouse, but I've always thought that the three name handle was a little... snooty. Which works fine for them because, beyond their general awesomeness, they're... you know... snooty. Or English, which is basically the same thing.

My name is David Hovey, and my full name is David Robert Hovey. I didn't want to be known as David Robert Hovey. I'm not English, and I try my best not to be snooty (unless the crumpets are absolutely dah-ling). So why do I sign my work DRH and all of my everything online is David Robert Hovey?

It's all just a misunderstanding. See, there's already an architect out there named David Hovey, and he has splattered his name unceremoniously across the inter-webs. So, when it came time for me to pick a url that wasn't taken, I simply typed in my full name.

My signature is a 'D' followed by a scribble, and an 'H' followed by a scribble. I have all the flitting, orchestrated penmanship of a doctor filling out prescriptions. So, in lieu of finishing my masterworks with a children's crayon scribble, I opted for the initials.

By that time, I just gave up on being known professionally as just 'David Hovey' and made all of my other sites and emails match. I've come to terms with it.

Who am I, then? If I'm knighted, or become the Earl of Crumpet Manor or something, you can call me your Lordship David Robert Hovey. For now, just your Lordship will do.