I live in tent made of Beaver skin. Is good. Tsarina stiched it herself.
It's day two of the
'Hundred Days' project, and though I'm not intending to blog about all the rinky-dinky little pictures I'm planning to draw, I am taking advantage of striking whilst the inspiration iron is dazzlingly white hot. Well, luke-warmish. In all fairness I'm put to shame by some really great blogs, and some interesting self improving ideas, including; a
classy art blog,
limericks,
learning about stuff and
140 character plays. So, I'm drowning not waving whilst trying to do my bit
Above is first sketch of a Rasputin caricature, object of my current fixation- I'm now on biography number two (in a week). This post was going to be about the nature of obsession itself, but it became a bit of a solipsistic drawl, blathering on about my amazing abilities at tetris and the price my compulsive, but crippled, thumbs have paid.
Then it was going to be about charisma, given that Rasputin was a one suave charmer, and charismatic people would seem, on the face of it, to be an interesting subject. I should confess though that this is the third draft, the quasi-educational number two has also been consigned to the great recycle bin in the sky; you'll never get to know charismatic facts concerning greek etymology, Rasputin's hypnotic eyes, the defunct charisma record label, or Jan Matthys the cannibalistic (and compelling) anabaptist of Munster - though he's an interesting character and well worth looking up.
My conclusion is that charisma is really boring to write about; you try to describe the kind of burning magnetism that brings people to their knees, and end up with verbose drivel, such as;
"thank goodness it's a rare thing in a person; as a group we all lived to be moved, to be inspired beyond our humble lives, and history teaches us again and again that the transformation comes with the risk of losing one's way". Bloody hell, I can be pompous. So, just go away and watch Sunset Blvd. instead, Norma's got bags of 'it', whatever 'it' is, or listen to some Pulp.
Here's one of my favourites to get you started;
I live in tent made of Beaver skin. Is good. Tsarina stiched it herself.
