No I haven’t had a stroke.
This is a contour drawing. It’s done fast, almost scribbly…ok it’s scribbly.
Scribbly is good don’t you think?
Contour drawings are done while mostly looking at the subject instead of the paper, yet still drawing while you’re looking at the subject. I am a bit weak at this since I don’t do it much — especially with people as a subject.
People are really interesting and I’m determined to get good at capturing them.
On paper that is. With a pen. And watercolor.
No story or off the wall thinking behind this one.
Just practicing up on developing a landscape style that allows me to paint quickly, almost like a sketch.
The objective is to capture the impression of a scene, both physically and emotionally.
It’s more about shapes, color, and light than detail.
The detail is filled in by the viewers mind.
The test of success is to step away and look at the painting. If the abstract strokes and colors meld into a cohesive, believable scene from a few feet back, then all is well.
This scene is an imaginary one from our trip to Maine last year.
For the artists among you, it was done with watercolor and gouache over a very simple pencil sketch.
We’re headed off to Maine in a couple of days.
We’re gonna concentrate on the Acadia National Park area and see if we can find the time to sit still for a bit here and there rather than make it a “hang your camera out the window ‘cuz there ain’t no time to stop here” trip.
In an effort to prime the sketching pump a bit, I thought I’d sketch some stuff from photos of Maine before I go.
I’m also going to adjust my style a bit to make sketching faster. I’m going to use a pencil instead of a pen. I’ll still add watercolor but the pencil for me is so much faster I decided I’d see if that makes me more inspired to actually sketch.
That being the case, I need to practice that style a bit so I’m used to it by the time we leave.
So, I’ll be posting a few “Maine warm-up sketches” before we head out. Then I’ll be silent for a few days while we’re gone. When I return, I’ll post some Maine travel sketches. Hopefully there will be some good ones and some good stories to go with them.
You’ve heard of Snoop Doggy Dog I suppose, the rapper?
Well this is Sleep Doggy Dog. My doggy dog Rosie. Also known as Rosebud, Little Dog, and Bark-a-Lounger.
It occurred to me the other day that in the twelve years Rosie has graced us with her presence, I have sketched her but twice.
That is about to change because I now realize I’ve had a great little subject following me around all these years.
I learn something every time I sketch. Sometimes oddities are revealed to me. This sketch of Rosie revealed an oddity.
You see, at twelve years, Rosie is a really heavy sleeper. The big Corgi ears still work but not as well as a few years ago. And the brain is still playful and sharp but not nearly as prone to keeping watch all the live long day.
As an example, just a few days ago I walked up to her as she slept in this her favorite position. I called her name quietly. Not a stir. I touched her head. Not a stir.
It was not until I rubbed the top of her thick furry neck with a firm hand that she awoke.
Sleep Doggy Dog indeed.
Which brings me to the oddity.
I carefully and quietly sat down on the floor in front of her last night around two in the morning as she slept. I was five feet from her, sketchbook and pen in hand. As usual she was completely zonked out. Not a stir. Not a flicker of a change that indicated I had disturbed her sleep in any way whatsoever.
I sat still for ten or fifteen seconds. Still sound asleep. Deeply asleep. Not a flinch, not a sigh, nothing.
I began sketching her loose and quick and quiet. Scritch, scritch, scratch - the pen making barely audible noises on the grainy watercolor paper.
I got the angle pretty good on the nose and snout then started concentrating on the position of her eyes and…danged if she didn’t wake up!
I froze. How odd! It takes a hard rub on the neck any other time to roust her. I was certain she would just lay there and snooze.
She slowly cracked open her eyes, rolled them up at me for a second or two, then turned and raised her head, and looked at me.
It was a look that said, “If I didn’t know you, I’d bark at you. What the hell are you doin’?”
I am certain it was not the pen on paper noises that woke her. She was awakened from the deepest of sleep by the electricity of me watching her.
I realized at that moment how odd it is that animals, including us, are so sensitive to being watched. Even in a deep, deep sleep our brains tip us off that somebody or something is really checking us out.
It brings to mind the punch line from a joke about the hot and cold “awareness” of a thermos bottle…”How do it know?”
Rosie by the way did not resume her sleep. I continued to sketch her pose from the memory of thirty seconds past. As I did so, she got up, streeeeeetched, toddled the five feet over to me, and gave me three or four licks on the face.
Good doggy dog.
I like Design. Do you?
Design is that element of stuff that makes it stylish, useful, pretty, elegant, high quality, utilitarian, flashy, understated…and even ugly if the design begs for that.
So, not intentionally having anything to do with the Italy posts of late, I’ve sketched an item whose design I really like. It happens to be an Italian product called a Vespa. It’s made by a company called Piaggio, an old company that has been making scooters a long time.
I suppose we all get a bit infatuated with products, brands and such over the years. They make us feel good. That’s what these little Vespa scooters do for me. As far as Design goes, these hit the mark for me. They’re stylish, quick, efficient, and you don’t have to adopt a lifestyle if you decide to buy one and ride it. And the big plus, they are arguably the highest quality scooters made among all the many makers.
Simply said, they are fun. The essence of fun.
Note I said these hit the mark “for me”. I don’t expect everyone to like what I like. I just sketched it because I like the little things.
I actually own a larger scooter which I’ll sketch soon too. It’s a Piaggio but not a Vespa. I know you care…you do don’t you?
So enough…get a Vespa if you want to inject some fun into your life.
What kind of fun you say?
I go out at 8:00 in the evening and ride around my neighborhoods here in Southern suburbia for an hour. The air is cooler (only 90) and the traffic is close to nil. I can wind it out, lean it over on the curves, or just putt around and look at stuff. Once we get over our heat wave, I’ll go in the daytime and find stuff to sketch.
I know it seems strange to someone who has never ridden a scooter, but what I just described is great fun. Even if you do it regularly.
The most fun though is to do it maybe twice a week or once a week. Then it’s always like a new experience.
I’ve gone months without riding the scooter. When I finally jump on it and go, I always find myself saying “Gee I’ve got to ride this more often. I love this thing!”
I might note that I’ve owned a big ol’ cruiser bike and a BMW motorcycle as well. I sold the BMW to get the scooter. It’s way more fun.
We visited Johnny Rockets today for a lunch burger.
We were seated in a two person booth. These are itty-bitty booths. Once seated, there is room for a burger a drink and your elbows. Not much else. That is because of the assorted paraphernalia which joins you for your meal.
There is a nickel jukebox on each table which takes up a fair chunk of space. I started pumping nickels into it and choosing songs, my wife anxiously looking for nickels of her own so she could start pumping them in as well.
When our waitress finally showed up, we were informed that the “jukeboxes were out”. Not being entirely well versed in “waitress-ese”, I took that to mean they didn’t work. She confirmed my assumption and made no offer to reimburse my twenty-five cent contribution to their establishment.
Of course music was playing in the place, loudly, and oddly the same tunes listed in the jukebox as available for a nickel.
Sneaky, sneaky, sneaky. No signs stating the jukeboxes didn’t work. I lost twenty-five cents before they passed along the little tidbit of information and finally, by chance I reckon, I heard one of the songs I had selected.
Oh well. Live and learn eh? At the end of the day they probably empty the jukes and split the money. Or could be I’m the only boob in years that has ever put a nickel in the dang things anyway.
Along with the nickel stealer on the table were the ketchup and mustard bottles, a napkin holder, little stems with ads at the top plugging their most expensive burgers and milkshakes. Plus a little black thingy holding packets of those cancer causing sweeteners we all use. And a vase with red carnations…which was nice.
As we sat there, cramped and very close to all our table wear, I sketched the jukebox and a salt shaker. They were the only things far enough away for me to keep in focus.
Then the lights dimmed, a disco ball in the ceiling lit up and started slowly spinning, and all the staff marched into a line right beside us and started dancing to the BeeGees song which was just starting to play…even louder than normal. I stopped sketching and ate my french fries…the traditional appetizer of Johnny Rockets…as the Travolta wannabe’s strutted their stuff so close to me I could feel the swishes of air pass my face with every move.
The burger was excellent as usual but each time I eat at Johnny Rockets, I swear I shall not return. It’s the noise level and slow service and sneaky jukeboxes and other annoyances, which I forget about between visits. But, once a year or so, while running Saturday errands, I find myself saying to my wife “wanna go to Johnny Rockets?”
Upon exiting into the great outdoors I relished the lower volume of the parking lot and traffic noise. But sweat already forming on my brow, I missed the air conditioning inside the restaurant.
Life is a trade-off.
I have written it on the blackboard one hundred times:
I will loosen up my paintings and sketches.
I will loosen up my paintings and sketches.
I will loosen up my paintings and sketches.
…actually, I haven’t really written it on the blackboard. But after just typing it three times, I’ve come to the vivid awareness of why teachers make kids write things one hundred times. It makes you remember!
Hah! who’d a thunk it.
Perhaps that is the reason I’m a bit of a mental dolt. I never had a teacher tell me to “Write blah, blah, BLAH, blah, blah, one hundred times after school today Mr. West.”
I can think of three things right off the bat I wish one of my teachers would have made me write one hundred times on the blackboard. Dang! Now I see how it could have changed my life!
I will not be a slave to credit cards.
I will not be a slave to credit cards.
I will not be a slave to credit cards…
I will save enough money to retire by the age of thirty.
I will save enough money to retire by the age of thirty.
I will save enough money to retire by the age of thirty…
I will always wear clothing under my trench coat.
I will always wear clothing under my trench coat.
I will always wear clothing under my trench coat…(Just kidding. I don’t even wear a trench coat.)
But I digress.
I must, I simply must loosen up with my sketching and painting. I’ve been doing a lot of studying of other artists, professional artists, contemporary and historical, and the really good ones are masters of “looseness”.
Impressionism if you will. To leave an impression with an image is to communicate by hinting at reality. It forces the viewer to fill in the blanks and make the scene their own. Thus, it is intimate. It involves the viewer without their knowing it. Sort of like when you meet someone you really like right off the bat. They left an impression on you. Little hints of who they are. You don’t know why, but you filled in the blanks and decided you like them.
Looseness in drawing, sketching and painting is the same way.
Too loose though, and you LOSE touch with the viewer. Sort of like when you meet that person in the above paragraph but they are totally stoned. They make no sense about anything and leave nothing but confusing impressions. You can’t fill in the blanks in a way that is pleasing. So you’re totally turned off and decide you don’t like them. They’re too out of control.
And thus, I seek to become just loose enough. That’s what I’m going to be concentrating upon. Developing a pen and ink looseness that is pleasing to the eye and interesting to the mind.
The above sketch is an attempt. It drives home to me that it isn’t an easy thing to accomplish with pen and watercolor wash. It takes practice. It requires letting go. I haven’t had enough practice yet. Shall we say, “Loosening up is hard to do.” ?
Bear with me.
