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Ghosts from the past.

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I had a story to tell. I wanted to tell it. But I couldn’t.  I faced my plain paper with a pencil in my hand ready to tell this story, my story but I couldn’t bring my self to do it. It was just a mix  of bitterness, pain and true fear, fear like I’ve ever felt before, it tugged at my throat and I began to lose breath.  I promised never to weep again, what happened happened and I’m bigger and stronger now. Tears don’t show weakness, but If I had cried, it would be because of my weakness.  I wanted to tell a story of Domestic violence and how it affects a family. My process usually is getting an image in my head,bringing it to life through photography, then I draw and add my emotions to it but too many memories didn’t let this one get to the emotion stage.  Anyways, here are the photos. Original concept by Me, Patrick Chuka.  Feel free to steal for whatever reason if its worth it. I got my mum, cousins and a father I never had to model for me on this one. Sadly,
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My Discovery of the Use of Ballpoint Pen.

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As a growing artist, my focus has always been on being experimental. I planned on spending my first 5 years trying out new techniques, also trying out new and unconventional medium, basically testing the waters and seeing what works best for me. Maybe by my 6th year in practise I'd be able to manipulate different mediums and techniques to create my unique style of art. I spent a year practising with pencils and oil paints. I learnt a lot, still learning. For months now, I've been coming  across portraits made with just a pen, it seemed painfully difficult to look at. I had so many questions and no answers. It took me weeks to make up my mind to try it and see how it goes or what it entails. I did a quick drawing of my hand. By quick, that is 50+ hours.😊 It wasn't perfect but I saw a lot of loopholes that needed filling. I made mistakes that were very avoidable. And I discovered a lot of short cuts which I manipulated into my second drawing done with a ball po
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Last Drawings of 2017- "Hatchet".

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I may never understand, truly, the inner disposition beneath all those curves; No one would ever understand the underlying strength in the homely smiles and motherly gestures; Point at that one who could understand that the female form is one of constant endurance of pain and suffering? The monthly menstrual cycle that comes with it excruciatingly painful cramps. The agony of having to push a lifeform from between your thighs, a slippery being slithered from between strained legs and sore privates. The long hours of endless screams to bring forth yet another individual. The endless juggling between family and work. Between friends and colleagues. Trying to balance being the perfect wife, amazing mum and endearing woman. Yet she maintains a certain kind of aura. Her beauty is still unfazed. Her smile never wanes. Her touch; feminine and intense, it can affect the shroudest soul and bend the toughest minds. Yet she maintains an enviable serenity, a sacredness that can only co
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