Anatomy of a Drawing: Photo 3

And still another couple of hours worth of work. I'm not used to working in such slow stages, and as I do my drawing late at night, having to wait until I shoot it the following day in the same light as the previous drawing stages before I can continue working on it has been strange, but slowly I'm getting closer to finishing. And having to stop and think about how far I've gotten in the drawing and where to stop and then where to pick up the next night really has forced me to think more about what I'm doing. It's been odd but interesting.

Anatomy of a Drawing: Photo 2

This is about another ninety minutes of work on the drawing.

Anatomy of a Drawing: Photo 1

I thought it might be kind of cool to post photos of a drawing I'm currently working on as I complete it. This will give me the chance to see what I do as I'm doing it from outside the moment, which could be helpful to me. I thought of it after I had begun a new drawing of Edison (I really need to get working on a subject other than him for my sketchbooks before this gets to be incredibly dull, but he's just so damn cute, I can't help myself. Besides, it's a good excuse to sit and draw every single day and look at my darling doggie a whole lot, too) so this first one is already a little more than just roughly sketched in. I spent about an hour and a half, maybe a bit longer, on his right ear (which isn't remotely finished) and his right eye (which is for the most part complete). Keep watching for more of this drawing to make a slow appearance depending on time-allowed for photographing and posting it.

Hitting a Really Rough Spot

I adore everything art. I always have and I always will. I love to see art, I love to touch art and I love to read about art, so why am I having a problem with reading it for those who can't read it for themselves? For the last almost four years, I have been reading regional arts and entertainment news for the blind at a local radio station. I have never broadcast this part of my life believing that if one is going to do something charitable, it's far better to do it on the down-low than to make a big deal out of what you are doing. Keeping it quiet keeps it more from the heart and less from the head. But to be perfectly honest, I have grown weary of the weekly grind. It's difficult to admit this, but it's true. I still love to read about exhibitions at museums, book reviews, New England theater, et al, but for some reason having to read it each and every week and make it interesting each and every time has become something of a grind. Deciding what to read, what to cull, making sure it all fills the time frame required, and then listening to myself reading it all a second time through for any glitches is tedious. I had a few weeks off this fall due to circumstances beyond my control and I found that I liked not having to read. Loved it, in fact. This makes me feel guilty and selfish considering that it's only a couple of hours a week. But spare hours and time for working on art is hard-earned and lately not as frequent as I'd like, so I find myself resenting anything that drags me away from it. I wouldn't stop doing the reading in spite of my feelings of unrest about it and obviously no one is forcing me to continue offering my time, but each week come Sunday night I find myself thinking, "Arrrgh, I need to go read for this week." And then I not only feel shitty because I have to take the time to tape my allotted time for the week, but because I feel guilty for feeling shitty about it. I hope this is just a phase I'm going through and I'll find the joy in it once more, the feeling I had when I first began to read, but for now I just have to try to not overthink it and do as happily as I am able what I know is right. I'm not proud of feeling like this, but I am being completely honest about it. Hopefully saying it out loud will make it less horrible.

Paint By Number Heaven

Last week I was out with Griffin picking up some varnish and fixative, but because I was lazy and didn't feel like going all the way into town to my artist supply store, we went to a local craft shop. They didn't have the exact varnish I wanted, but I did find a can of photo preservative designed with a home scrapbooker in mind, which is far less toxic and dangerous than my professional grade photo preservative, so I picked up a can of that too. As we were heading to the register, in my peripheral vision I noticed an entire aisle that was chock full of paint-by-number kits, so naturally, I just had to check them out up close and personal.

When I was a kid, I loved paint-by-numbers and did them all the time. My favorites were pictures of horses grazing in a field or running in a group. The first set I picked up this time was of a small group of horses standing around a meadow and I thought it might be fun to do it, but then I came to my senses and said to Griffin, "What the hell am I thinking? Painting a paint-by-number picture of horses- what am I? Ten?" and I put it back on the display. But then I saw a crumpled box on the floor under the display that was bigger than all the boxes of puppies and kittens and horses. It was a Winslow Homer painting, was quite large, and was in terrible condition. The box was torn open, the oil paints were separating and/or dried and there was at least a half-inch of dust covering the whole thing. There wasn't a price on it and there was no place on the display for it either. I took it to the register and the girl price-checked it for me: $19.00 despite its awful condition, so I passed on it.

But when I got home, I got to thinking. If there was this one masters' series painting then there had to be other ones, so I got online and sure enough found a few more that were available at a couple of art supply places. I went berserk when I found two van Goghs. I ordered them both: a sunflower painting and his bedroom in Arles. I was really, really hoping that someone somewhere had Starry Night, but alas it was not to be. The two I bought came this morning and I am thrilled with them. Part of me is thinking what a goof I am to be so excited about paint-by-numbers, but a bigger part of me can't wait to get started on them. These kits have changed a whole lot in the last thirty five years. Mine say they're for beginners, but they require mixing paint colors, sometimes more than two or three colors for a section, which I think is really cool. And if I use up too much of the paints and run out before I'm done, I obviously have all the colors I need for both paintings so the warning on the box not to mix too much doesn't matter a whit.

And in the end, I'm going to have both the fun of re-living a favorite childhood hobby and get two van Goghs (even if they are cheap paint-by-number van Goghs) out of it to boot. The smell of the paints in their little cups and the feel of the thin printed canvas board, when I opened my boxes this morning after the UPS man left, took me instantly back far, far too many years to count. I can't wait to get started. This is going to be a total gas.

Self Portrait, acrylic, gesso, graphite and charcoal on glued paper, 2009.