I am the occasional Insomniac. Sometimes days and even weeks crawl by at an interminably slow, agonising pace, where sleep becomes merely a distant memory; a memory shot through with the most painful nostalgia for oblivion and dreams.
Yet, the occasional Insomniac can sleep for a thousand years, once the sleepless phase has run its course. Now, I may wake after 8 or 9 hours of unbroken bliss only to find myself still stumbling through the remnants of dreams...the transition into wakefullness so perfectly soothed by the fading, crisp light of a chill, October afternoon.
Sleep: A luxurious, if unpredictable adventure.
Otto and Oskar are most likely the result of similar musings; where dreams and reality merge.
The creamy pastels may serve as a sort of lullabye, to counteract the unpredictablitilty of his dreams. For no beds, not even the mossy comfort of the daylight forest floor can guarantee persistently gentle slumbers. Otto appears to have fallen asleep right in the middle of somebody's birthday celebrations. Narcoleptic tendencies are simply not conducive to the success of a young bear's social life. Let it be known that otto does not give a hoot!
Taking tea in Wonderland.
Remnants of his friend, otto, and a certain degree of uncertainty. And no, that is not a black eye.
I really needed to create more animal/bear related images. Only a teeny weeny amount of collaging this time; the parts were individually, digitally painted, then digitally re-composed. I love the little fir tree, although it is quite possibly one of the worst, badly excecuted things that I have ever drawn.