Shadeart is my term for working in digital painting as a shade an echo of my dreams and moods. I began ten years ago, testing software to find a brush soft enough to mimic real airbrush and to give me paper that never goes to waste, storage that is vast. As my physical space shrank, I moved more into digital work. Recently I trained a closed neural model on my own archive of airbrush paintings, scans, and drawings, and built a digital texture bank. The system learns the rhythm of my hand and process rather than borrowing from anyone else. The outputs are raw material. They are not perfect and they are often blind and blurred, like me without glasses. The machine makes excidents, ugly splatter and I take it back to edit, paint over, cut, collage, and reshape it into new works, translating the digital residue back into physical form.
This process is less about automation and more about reclaiming ghost inside the machine.
Where the spirit of failiure still moves beneath the algorithm.
