Freddie and my rototray

    

Love this drawing!

Hand signals

According to Google, this mudra means teaching or instruction. I have another one -- which I might draw tomorrow -- means protection.

Fuzzy details

I can't see details too well when I don't have my glasses on, but I don't want the glasses in the drawing -- is a puzzlement (as the King of Siam would say)! This drawing is a little scary, but I see that it has life and spontaneity that my detailed pencil drawings don't have.

Inspiration from the past

I am moved by the drawings and paintings of Steve Mumford, after listening to a story about him on Studio 360, marking the tenth anniversary of the beginning of the Iraq war. The energy and life in his work made documenting the way of life there is inspiring. Winslow Homer's documentation of WWI motivated Mumford to do the same. Hearing the story reminded me of John Singer Sargent's watercolors done after spending time at the Western Front in 1918. This was probably finished in a studio from sketches done on site. 

Keeping on

I've been drawing items, rather than scenes. And until now, I have avoided anything complex. Tackling drawings that require keener observation and more time to develop is one way I will improve my skill. Using a pen, rather than a pencil, requires me to draw with more confidence, and to make use of even ill-placed marks. This drawing took an hour, and I didn't get very far. Within the first five minutes I saw that my proportions were out of whack, but what the heck. I continued.

Letter opening guy

This little guy is a charming hand-carved letter opener from many moons ago. I remember it from when I was a kid. I don't know what its history is, but years ago I stuck the business end into a potted plant, so that I could just see his head and torso. Now that part has mostly disintegrated. Too bad.

Assumptions

This is an example of drawing what I think I see, rather than really looking. For a while I was confused as to why I couldn't get certain proportions correct, then discovered that I had drawn 8 points on the thing, when there were really only 7. My brain had assumed the design was symmetrical.

Oil can

There's a big difference between drawing like I did yesterday -- the cardinal done carefully in pencil -- and the kind of drawing that's more about seeing.  My drawings still suffer from a hurried mind. I remind myself to be patient, and just continue. I want to fall in love with process.

Waiting on a new pope

I've been interested in the images of the cardinals as they proceeded around the Sistine Chapel in prayer, preparing to elect a new pope. Their red robes and white smocks, along with their red hats that look like the folded-paper fortune-telling contraptions I used to make in grade school, make for a visually-interesting composition. 

Funky monkey from Finn

This is the funky monkey cup that Finn brought me from a trip years ago. I drink coffee out of it almost every day. The drawing is nothing if not layered -- marker, ink wash, opaque white paint, more marker, and white pencil. I like the handle, which reminds me of commercial art school when we made illustrations of objects for newspaper ads. Note to self: black marker might not be the best medium in which to render white ceramic! 

Danish Modern minus cushions

This is my Danish Modern chair, sans cushions, which are currently being recovered in a geometric fabric of red triangles. I'm eager to see how it looks when finished -- I think it's gonna be good. My drawing, on the other hand.... I started with a fine line pen, and the result was tentative and 'hairy.' After cleaning up some of the lines with a Sharpie, it's better. Still out of proportion, and with little character. 

This is me.

This is me. I used to draw well. The desire to draw well is one of the few things that has remained consistent in me over the years. I'm sorely out of practice. My ever-shortening attention span doesn't lend itself to careful observation, then translating what I see onto the page. I want to improve my skills.