Buried Wood

Series 2 - Pencil

2010-01-25T03:07:00.004+08:00

Series 2 pencil sketch:

This is the pencil sketch for the 2nd series. I changed the composition a little, lowered the kettle to fit the handle in....which obviously wasn't entirely successful. I could have raised the top of the entire picture, but I didn't feel it was important. In fact, I kind of like the way the handle juts out.

What I like about this picture is the line work. I started the hatching as normal, but I've been experimenting with the direction and size and patterning of my hatchwork, and I think it worked in this picture. I like the lines that appear in the background (I've been trying to produce that effect, and for some reason couldn't do it to my satisfaction before.) I also like the tea kettle overall. And the ceramic jug.

What I don't like about this drawing is the spout, which was done poorly overall, and in particular, in the darkest spot where the spout meets the kettle, I damaged the paper with the pencil. I had a hard time with the hatching on the smaller spout, and it shows. Flushed with my newfound technique, I rushed into the colouring of the spout, not taking my time, and in the process, I ruined it. After erasing and re-hatching, I kind of gave up.

Likewise, the cloth is of course unfinished. I liked the overall patterning at first, but (I hate to admit it!), I grew bored working on the cloth, and hatched a little too hastily, which ruined what I had achieved up to that point. (I think a good break would have been in order. But I was eager to finish this piece and move on.)

I've also been thinking (since working on the charcoal drawing of this tea kettle), that it would make more sense to move the light so that the highlight is more central. The only problem is that in that case, the shadow would disappear entirely from the jug. Which may mean either that I'd do better to make the highlight on the spout the focal point...or else the composition just doesn't work overall. To my mind, the highlight is way too far to the right.

Anyway, I don't think the entire sketch is ruined, and if I really wanted, I could go back in there and spruce it up. I don't really see myself doing that, but you never know!

Small Sketch Series 2

2010-01-16T04:09:00.003+08:00

Here is the first drawing from Series 2, done in charcoal:

Starting Small Sketch Series

2010-01-16T03:59:00.007+08:00

I've been mulling over what exactly to do in my home studio as daily practice. Do I work on finished pieces? Do I do a bunch of practice sketches and then follow up with a finished piece? I really wasn't sure what to do to keep my hand in it every week. But after checking out this website, I decided that the idea of small sketches was a good one, and that's what I am doing right now (with the odd more finished piece thrown in from time to time). I'm doing things slightly different than the artist on that website: my series is one charcoal drawing, one pencil drawing, and one oil painting of the same object(s).

I originally intended to do an ongoing series of small sketches a year ago, but didn't follow through. This is my start:

(The pieces are still in a notebook, and I have only recently taped a piece of wax paper over them for protection, so the charcoal is a bit worse for wear.)

This is the first series a year later:

It's pretty embarrassing. The problem turned out to be trying to stick to a rigid schedule of producing an entire series of sketches each week. I had scheduled Monday for pencil, Tuesday for charcoal, Wednesday for oil, Thursday for figure drawing (not part of this series), then weekends for catching up. But it turns out that I only had time to do that during the holidays-and barely enough time even then! So I rushed to finish each piece on time, which meant that the end result was of poor quality. I don't like to do that, so I've changed my expectations to basically one piece per week, as opposed to an entire series of 3 sketches per week. Hopefully I can do better than that, and part of my goal is to motivate myself to work more, and more often, in the studio. But I don't want to sacrifice quality for quantity.

Here is the oil sketch:

Small sketch series starting soon

2009-12-29T22:13:00.006+08:00

I've been following this guy's website for a while, and thinking of doing some of the exercises that he did (specifically, the series of sketches; I'm a sucker for a series!) and posting them here. At the moment, I only have the evenings and weekends to work on my art, so it may be somewhat slow going, but that's OK. My intention is to do one small sketch in pencil, charcoal, and oil per week, and to execute them in order from Monday to Wednesday, then finish up on Fridays or the weekend as necessary.

Although they are much smaller than the size I am used to working at (I tend to fill a 9"x12" page, which is how I was taught), they are actually a lot larger than the drawings on that website (his are generally 3"x5, I think), because a.) I am not working sight-size, and b.) I have no desire to work that small. This, I think, will present a challenge for me to finish them in time - especially if I add in a cloth, which is always fiddly for me. BUT, the way to progress is to work on what is most challenging, so that's what I intend to do. (But because they are relatively small, I am hoping this will motivate me to finish them, especially when I am close to finished and only need a little more time to complete the drawing - instead of abandoning something that I know needs another 6-8 hours of work.)

In fact, I'd also like to do a series of cloth studies. (Watch for it!) In one of my classes at ACAD, we had to do a series ...hmmm...what was it? I ended up doing a series of my clothes, but I can't recall if it was a cloth study, or simply Draw Something in Your Bedroom kinda thing. Anyway, I ended up doing some drawings of my clothes that I really liked.

Well....here they are!

(I think I did some others, but this was the 'triptych' for the assignment.)

Still Life with Red Pear

2009-12-21T04:22:00.009+08:00

I walked into Safeway and saw this pear, and my jaw just dropped. The hue was so intense, it just called out to be painted. So I heeded the call and built a still life around it

(I have to state that this is a truly awful photo of this painting!)

In this still life, I tried a few new things:

It's the first time I attempted stem-with-leaves. I used the palette knife on its edge, which David Leffel showed me how to do. (I've been dying to try it out since then!) I'm going to try this in some upcoming still lifes. It's tricky to get the stem thin enough, and I want to work on that so I can add this to my painting repertoire. A stem with some kind of flora always seems to add a nice flourish.

The lighter side of the background, filled in with a tint of a somewhat complementary colour, meant to define the colour of "air" in the painting. I think it could get a bit lighter. In fact, the entire painting needs more light.
The "halo" of colour around the pear (not very visible in this photo). This is also something that David Leffel does, and I've been meaning to try it. The idea is that the light it so intense that it saturates the air around it, even bleeding into the background.

Some things that I would have liked to do better:

Location location location! When I started this still life, all of the objects were slightly bigger, and I decided they should be smaller, but SOMEHOW when I reduced them in size, everything got stuck kinda smack-dab in the centre of the painting, which annoys me, but by the time I was conscious of it, it was way too late to fix.

I think the pear is OK as-is, but for some reason, it took me a bunch of times painting and re-painting to get it into decent shape. It's not a tricky subject, I just wasn't happy with how it looked until I got it to this point.

Figure painting (Melissa)

2009-12-19T03:50:00.005+08:00

This is the best painting I have done of a model to date:

I spent three 3-hour sessions on it, and could have had a 4th, but I missed a day due to: hangover, being stuck in snow, needing a day off. (Mostly hangover, though.) Sure, there are some things wrong with it, things I'd like to fix, things I can't fix, but I think I also just need to accept my paintings that are less than Rembrandt quality and move on...

What I am happy about in this painting:

I got the skin variations a little closer together.
I got so much done on the first day that I was blown away! I'd done a preliminary drawing (or actually two, if I recall correctly), so I knew where the pitfalls were (ie: leg/hip size - a pitfall I fell back into while painting!), but otherwise, I was familiar with the figure and able to get the composition down with minimal difficulty. (Although for some reason, I was absolutely unable to shrink the figure down to say 80% of its size, which I think would have fit the composition better: I wanted the figure to be smaller in relation to the overall picture size. By the way, this photo is cropped slightly.)
I was pleased with how I put the face in: not overly detailed. I find this quite difficult, and even this one has slightly too much detail, but it's totally acceptable. (To me.) (Right now.) I'd wanted to focus on her torso, with a glow coming off her flesh there, and the extremities of lesser importance. I think I more or less managed to achieve that. Except that....

Difficulties with this painting:

...I had a hard time keeping the paint on her belly interesting. It's such an expanse of flesh, and it feels kind of like driving the prairies, with not an interesting landmark in sight!
It was difficult to keep the shadow values on her stomach, close to the ground. In fact, they're still not dark enough. I had a similar problem on her chest.
I did a great job blocking in her left hand (resting on her side), then went in and thoroughly destroyed it. I kind of salvaged it at the end, but it never came out as good as I had originally blocked it in. (Damn!)

Figure Painting (Dustin)

2009-12-14T23:54:00.006+08:00

[OK: ewwww!!! The photo was too discoloured - made him look sickly green.!)

Anyway, I haven't done a painting from a model in a long time, so it was time to get back to that. This was an OK start, but, yeah, it has its problems (tubular left leg, for example, and splotchy skin disease).

Some problems I had while painting this were:

1.) deciding how to represent the background. I wanted him to emerge from the shadows, which he didn't in real life, so I had to invent some of that. And I wasn't even sure what colour to make the background, which impacted my colour choice for the shadows on the skin.

2.) Well, skin colour. Partly made worse by not deciding on a background colour. But also creating excessive colour variations, such as the really pink skin on the cheeks and the greenish skin on the arms.

3.) Focusing more on the crossed arms and less on the face. I find it really difficult to "abstract" a face in order to focus attention elsewhere. (In this case, on the crossed arms.) I pretty much blew it here, but that's what practice is for.

Anyway, this was a good jump back into painting the figure, even if it isn't wildly successful. I haven't decided whether to keep this one (and possibly rework it?) or else paint over it. Don't have to decide for a while, though. Like until I move or run out of canvas. (I AM tempted to touch it up, but without the model, it may be a futile exercise, as I won't have the information in front of me.) At any rate, it got me ready for the next figure painting, which was somewhat more successful.

Drawing of Nicole

2009-12-14T23:53:00.005+08:00

This is one of my latest figure drawings.

I've been trying to speed up in my drawings (ie: do one, and sometimes more than one, drawing per session). In fact, if I remember correctly, this is one of three drawings I did that night. I executed the drawing in charcoal, and I recall wanting to add colour to it, but not being quite sure how or where to do it, so I left it as-is. I don't like to shy away from trying something difficult, but on the other hand, sometimes I want to leave with a "decent" drawing that hasn't been destroyed by too much media (which is how I usually ruin my drawings).

I'm trying to learn how to add only the essential coloring: ie: the barest minimum to give the effect of colour and dimension, but without (necessarily) colouring the entire thing from corner to corner.

Oh yeah: the face in this one was actually a somewhat new way of working for me: I didn't shoot for replicating the model's features, just blocked in the shadows as accurately as possible. I think it worked out better than some of my drawings in which I go after the features with more detail. Obviously, I could take this drawing a lot farther (and I'm considering re-working some of my figure drawings that I don't think quite stand alone in the future), but it's a decent start for me.

Biding time at the threshold

2009-08-18T22:37:00.003+08:00

I met with my life coach last night one final time. He's a cool guy; I recommend him to anyone needing a little direction. He asked me how things are going. I told him what's brewing:

I am registered for a calligraphy and a drawing course at ACAD. The calligraphy course is for fun and cuz my handwriting is embarrassing. The drawing instructor is this Chinese guy. John Chong, who apparently is an excellent Classical draughtsman. I am HOPING that he's really good and that I can take lessons with him. (Um...I'm a little unsettled by the painting on that page; I hope his stuff is generally much better than this. Otherwise, I may not pursue anything past this one course.)
I am in the Unseen Art show for another week, and then the Art Point Society has invited me to apply for membership in September, which I am going to do, and as a member, I have the right to put on a solo show whenever the space is available (once a year), so I am thinking about a solo show already. Probably next April or May kinda time frame.
I am teaching a drawing workshop (tentatively titled Drawing Volume and Light from the Still Life) on November 7 at the Calgary School of Art. Depending on how that pans out, I will a.) make some money, b.) potentially get some students. I am hoping to teach a regular drawing and oil painting class.
I am hoping to go to Studio Escalier next summer. Geoff is hoping to go, too. If I don't do that, I may go to the Art Students League for a month or two or three. I want to get SOME kind of instruction next year. (And if I am not asked to remain after my job contract finishes, I may well end up at the ASL full-time.)

Anyway, it feels to me as though I am on the verge of doing good things, but they just haven't started yet. Which is fine. I can use this time to work hard on my skills, on some pieces. For instance, I need to get a drawing up at the Calgary School of Art to advertise my workshop. I have started it, but you do ONE thing and it takes up all your time and suddenly it's 9:00 and you haven't drawn yet and you're already dog tired and looking for a shower. That's what happened last night. Met with HAMMER, and got home around 7:00, ate, walked my dog, then suddenly had no time to work. That's why I want to be doing this full-time. Otherwise, I won't get very far, because I have so little time to devote to it.

Drawings of Sasha and Jason

2009-08-17T22:27:00.009+08:00

Here are some of my most recent figure works. I am aiming towards greater accuracy in recording the figure, and trying to internalize the entire process so I can work from sight, without external measuring devices and ultimately without a "method." I have already abandoned external measuring, using only the occasional plumb line to check angles. (This flies in the face of the sight-size method, but I didn't want to go there anyway!) I am also skipping the envelope now, and diving more or less straight into the block-in. This CAN create some problems with proportion, or fitting a figure onto the page exactly where I want it, but I figure those will come with time, and actually, I haven't had a huge problem with that recently.

Generally speaking, I've been starting with a shoulder, working out the size of the head and torso, then moving on to the lower body and legs. I think I'd be better to define limits around the figure (for example, drawing a line for the shoulders and then a line for the legs, to set the size of the entire body), but so far, I've been lucky to hit the proportions within an acceptable size.

I've also started drawing in my notebook instead of on individual pieces of paper, as I've been thinking more of just working on figure drawing as opposed to turning out "pieces." I am not working in colour (at least for a while), just getting back to working in pencil to capture a basic likeness. I alternate between thinking, "man, I ought to be able to become very proficient with this" and "holy crap, this is so difficult, I'll never have time to learn it all." I figure that with another 20 years of work, I'll have something to say about the figure, by which time I will be 60...but then, I'll be 60 in 20 years regardless, so might as well have something to show for it!

Anyway, here are the figures. I haven't been dating them until this past week, so I can't remember the exact order, but it's not important anyway.
[I will replace these crappy photos with better-quality photos as soon as I can get around to it.]

I'm Teaching a Drawing Workshop Nov 7

2009-08-12T22:23:00.013+08:00

I'm slated to teach a basic still life drawing workshop at the Calgary School of Art on November 7. I'm really excited about it, and honoured to get the chance to teach there.

The most exciting thing for me is to be able to introduce the style of drawing that I learned from my teacher in Taiwan - to the best of my ability, and with influence from other remarkable artists (such as David Leffel and Richard Schmid). From what I have seen of the art scene in Calgary, there is not a huge number of people drawing Classically, and for those who do, there is not a lot in terms of instructors to help them along. A number of people are self-taught, which is incredibly admirable, and yet I can see some people making mistakes that I think are holding them back. So I hope to be able to pass along some information that can fill in some gaps they may have in their training.

The most basic thing, and yet of utmost importance, is how to hold the pencil. At the painting workshop I went to, David Leffel stressed the importance of holding the brush properly. He said this is primary, and everyone should learn or re-learn how to hold it properly. (Similarly, when I was studying Kung Fu in Boulder, Colorado, my shifu said to me that even after 25 years of practice, he was still refining his straight punch - the most basic element of the fighting system.) Specifically, I see artists holding a pencil to draw the way they would hold it to write - which is fine if their paper is close to horizontal, but if their paper is standing up vertically, it is very difficult to control. You should hold the pencil differently when you stand your paper up! (Likewise, I recommend holding it differently when doing the large block-in motions versus the smaller actions of hatching or drawing tight detail.)

Secondly, I'll discuss size and placement of the subject, and mention the modern tendency to make everything really large compared to the overall size of the piece. This is a personal choice, but I prefer a more condensed area of interest and smaller objects. And I'll talk about holding the pencil and making large lines during the blocking-in stage.

After that, I'm going to focus on drawing volume and light. In fact, I'm thinking of titling the workshop "Drawing Form and Light from the Still Life." Then, I can use that title for an oil painting workshop, a charcoal workshop, a portrait workshop, or whatever (ie: "Painting Form and Light from the Still Life," etc.).

I have to think of what else I will talk about. Most of the time will be devoted to helping students as they work, and I think I will set aside about an hour for a demonstration, so it's not like I need 6 hours' worth of talking points. But I should make sure I have enough information to pass on. And probably summarize the points on a handout. I will share that information here when I get it down.

Oh, and I already have the composition that I want to use for the picture. I made the original sketch in my journal, and have been working on nailing down the composition, but haven't turned out a piece yet. (I've also had difficulty finding the actual physical objects I want to use for it.) I don't want my students to copy one of my artworks - although I absolutely do intend to turn it into a finished piece.

And I also need to make one other piece as soon as possible, to hang as a promotional piece at the Calgary School of Art. (The piece I wanted to take over is too large.) So I am going to make something, hopefully starting tonight, to frame in an existing frame (so no extra cost), and take it over next week sometime. [Um...or I may go buy rain pants tonight, which could put a crimp in that plan.]

My thoughts on making this piece (I’m considering a charcoal + pastel drawing) are that it should communicate strongly across the entire floor space of the Calgary School of Art. When people come in, I want them to see it immediately and say, “Wow! What’s THAT!?” and run over to look at it, and then say one of two things: “Can I buy it?” or “I want to take a class from this guy!” (Well, OK: to be honest, I want them to say BOTH of those things!)

I think the way to do that is to use very high contrast (i.e.: chiaroscuro) with intense chroma at the focal point, and then enough detail to satisfy their eyeballs once they have forgotten why they originally came into the store and are gawking at my piece. I already have an oil sketch that is close to this, just needs a darker background, higher chroma, and more “stuff.” (I’m debating using this actual painting, although I think I ought to use a drawing of some kind to represent me for this workshop, since it’s a drawing workshop. And hopefully I can bring in an oil painting – maybe this one! - when I get the opportunity to offer a painting workshop.) I'm hoping that someone will want to buy it and that I can have it sold and then replace it with another one, which I hope will also sell. I'm HOPING that my promotional pieces will keep changing, and that I will have plenty of workshops and a couple of classes to offer. I'd love to be able to teach a drawing class once a week and a painting class once a week, and a workshop once a month or every two months. That would make me very busy, but in a very good way. In fact, it might be rewarding enough to keep me in Calgary for some time. I sure hope so!

abstract vs. realism

2009-08-04T22:41:00.013+08:00

I've been debating with myself whether or not to pursue abstract art at all, and perhaps been going at it in an fair way: I've been searching my understanding of each and what profit it brings to me, as an artist and as a person. This sounds fair enough, I'm sure. It did to me when I began the process. I figured that if I couldn't come up with a good enough reason to explore abstract art, then I would stick to realism. After all, I know that realism is more difficult, more challenging, and I know that the study of realist painting and drawing brings a deeper understanding of its subject matter: reality.

What I didn't count on was the sheer impact the best abstract art has on me. And now that I see it, I ought to flip the last sentence of the preceding paragraph around for the benefit of abstraction: that the study of abstraction leads to a greater understanding of abstraction.

I think this is not a minor concern.

After all, what struck me most during the David Leffel workshop was the amount he talked about the abstract in his art. Here is a man who is probably known best for his still lifes and his very real-seeming objects (peaches you could pluck off the canvas and eat; not because they are photo-realistic, but because they are so damn lush), and he was talking about the lights and darks doing a yin-yang dance. Or composing pictures to the rhythm of dum-dum-da-DUMMM! (What is that? Some piece by Mozart.) Not to mention that in his book, he points out that abstract art is very representational (paint splotches are nothing but paint splotches), whereas realist art is very abstract (paint splotches are apples, bottles, peaches, and people).

The conclusions that I came to while debating the benefits of devoting my time/Life to the pursuit of realism v.s the abstraction that *I* do (a.k.a. bear vs. shark):

Realism:

Requires mastery of colour, edges, values, perspective, composition

Requires an understanding of light

Requires (and develops) the ability to see clearly

Leads one to study anatomy, perhaps other scientific areas (botany, etc.)

Open to the pursuit of 'arty' or socio-political themes (for example, "identity")

MY Abstraction:

Requires mastery of colour, value, composition

Allows me to create beautiful compositions and colour combinations that do not necessarily exist in Nature (or at least, I don't need to worry about setting up a reference)

Open to the pursuit of 'arty' or scientific themes (for example, microbiology)

Obviously, realism (the shark) wins this battle, while the poor, weak, puny-headed bear (abstraction), having been ravined by the shark, limps away with its tail between its one good leg and its stump (the other leg being in the shark's stomach; this makes a lot more sense if you've read the novel).

What it boils down to in my mind is that it seems to me that the pursuit of realism will turn me into a more enlightened human being, with a greater skill set. There is very little in terms of pictorial elements, or anything else that I am interested in studying, that the pursuit of abstraction will demand of me (and thus, in which I will improve) over realism. The only somewhat dubious advantage that pure abstraction seems to offer is that I can pretty much do whatever the hell I want without reference to anything. (Whether this results in something that is relevant to anything is another matter. Likewise, whether this pursuit of the Self is beneficial to my person, as total self-interest is my definition of evil. I'm not saying that abstraction or abstract Art is evil, but I AM saying that the self-congratulatory nature of Artists who are supposed to come up with something entirely original, unique to them, and not derivative of any other Artist who has ever lived that Modernist art engenders is dangerous.)

On the other hand, I simply love some abstract Art. Not much, but some. Most of it, I find empty of anything meaningful, and many abstract artists don't even attempt to make something of beauty. My own opinion is that installation art, video montage, found art, appropriation and the like belong to an entirely different category of activity. I agree that they are arty, or art-inspired, or even use some of the materials and techniques of the arts, but they aren't art. They may be political activism, social commentary, psychological studies, sociological experiments, but if they are not concerned with seeing accurately, crafting beautiful objects, and furthering the understanding of the artist, then they aren't Art. I don't mean this to be divisive ("I'm an Artist and you're not"!), but rather to clarify. I see no enrichment of the Arts by opening up the definition to whatever anyone who calls himself an Artist produces. After all, we don't believe that anyone who calls himself a doctor can call anything medicine. Or that anything spoken by anyone who calls himself a politician is a law. We don't allow any person to claim to be a pilot, then hand them a jet. Or let whoever calls himself a general lead an army into battle. And yet we do accept that anything produced by an artist is Art, and anyone who wants to be an Artist can claim to be one. And there is so little training in art schools any more, and it is so unrigorous, that academic qualifications no longer count for anything.

And when I brought out one of my pieces for the upcoming show, it did strike me as a worthwhile use of my time, and I hope to produce other such worthwhile things. (Worthwhile because, in my opinion, they are beautiful.)

So I've decided I am going to work on some more abstract pieces, and try to get a solo show, and try to make a splash in the local art community, but I will also try to see it simply as a fun exercise in composition and colour, nothing too serious for any of us. And maybe I'll come out with some worthwhile pieces.

(...And if I don't, I probably won't pursue it much after this.)

Richard Schmid's painting DVD

2009-08-04T22:20:00.005+08:00

When I went to the David Leffel workshop in LA at the end of June, one artist whom just about everybody talked about (including David Leffel) was Richard Schmid. (I'll let David handle his own relationship with Richard Schmid, other than to report that Mr. Leffel asked rhetorically and in praise, "I mean, who paints like that?") And one of the gentlemen at the workshop, who was kind enough to drive me back and forth the first couple of days ended up lending me his Richard Schmid DVD, The Captain's Portrait. (Which, now that I have copied, I can return.)

To watch Richard Schmid paint, like watching David Leffel paint, is a delight. And he doesn't fail to surprise. Also like David Leffel. The biggest surprise in watching these two painting heavyweights is the almost careless way they apply brushstrokes. Nothing that either of them did (in the 1 Richard Schmid painting demonstration and the 2 David Leffel painting demonstrations I have witnessed) seemed beyond what I could do, or you could do, or anybody could do. Which reinforces in me the belief that mastery of painting is an excellent ability to see, not an exceptional adroitness with the painting materials. (Although, of course, one needs to be able to handle paint well, too - which isn't easy.)

Anyone who has at least one hand and one eye can start a portrait painting the way Richard Schmid does in this video: he whips up a batch of fleshy-coloured paint, and slaps it on the way you would attack a home decorating project - and with nearly as large a paintbrush. After that, it's a matter of seeing well enough to know where the details go, and understanding enough about light and colour and anatomy to know where to put more brshstrokes that any reasonable adult could make. The great mystery isn't in his hands - it's in his mind.

Which is a great lead-in to my next topic: abstract vs. realism.

Accepted into Unseen Art Show, August 8

2009-07-22T05:55:00.010+08:00

I just got the message that I have been accepted in the Unseen Art show at ArtPoint Gallery, on August 8. I spoke to the organizer, an extremely friendly lady named Elizabeth. She said she would like to sneak me into the show, even though I'm not really an "emerging artist." (I thought I was!) She said that I really should be in a gallery instead. That was extremely flattering to hear. I haven't approached any galleries, and more or less assumed that I am not ready for that yet.

...But it does make me think that if I could get into a gallery, maybe that would be a way of partially supporting myself in New York. I'm not sure what the rigors are of working for a gallery. It seems to me that you need to somewhat crank out the product. Which could actually be a very practical way of making me work harder and learn faster! On the other hand, if I am working realism and figure/portraiture at the Art Students League, and I envision getting together with other students after class and painting at home, maybe hiring models together, or at least working on still lifes (that's my dream while I'm there: to get a circle of hardcore Classical painters together, to hang out and paint together with them, have crazy dinners, have shows, have crazy adventures, fall in and out of love, get drunk, have spats, publish our ideas, etc), then it would be hard to make the time to work on my abstract stuff, too. It's a difficult balance.

Last night, Sherry agreed that I should spend more time on my abstract art - since, she said, it is more recognizable and "special." I agree to some extent, and it may be the ticket to making a splash, which would help me to support myself through my art only. I think it is a much easier way for me to make a recognizable contribution, since my realism is still developing.

I think the only reservation I have is that if I spend all that time on abstract stuff, then my realism (which is much harder) will suffer. And the way I see it, abstract/conceptual art is the pursuit of the ego, the self. It may be one way to further understand oneself (I'm not sure...), but it seems more likely to be a path towards self-glorification, or, at best, an entertaining distraction. It seems to me that abstract art at its best is pretty (or maybe ugly, or possibly shocking), but there's not much else behind it. I'm not sure what the artist as a human being would learn from painting abstract art, nor what the spectator would glean from viewing abstract art. (I'm also not sure what the value of being shocking is in itself, nor am I interested in advancing a political message through my art - certainly not my abstract art. A lot of what is called Art these days incorporates things that I am not interested in pursuing: social commentary, political activism, etc. I am interested in a certain kind of aesthetics: the pursuit of beauty.) Abstraction seems at the core to be an artist convincing the public to accept his or her point of view. Of ramming (perhaps gently) one's style down the throats of the public. (I do enjoy some abstract art, and I wouldn't even call it a guilty pleasure, because I don't feel guilty about it, but it seems to be the artistic equivalent of a Twinky dinner.)

The pursuit of realism, on the other hand, can lead to real wisdom and understanding of the world. David Leffel says this, and I agree. At the very least, it demands that you see clearly, which is a rare thing in and of itself. It causes you to see relationships accurately, and if nothing else, forces you to understand how light works. Realist painters need to understand light (ie: physics, to some degree), colour, space, balance, movement - not to mention the purely artistic concepts of composition, edges, brushstroke, etc.

On the other other hand, though... I simply like my abstract stuff, and that seems to be enough justification on its own... It seems somewhat ridiculous to think about such things - but then again, it's my life I'm talking about, what I decide to devote my time doing, and I want to make the most of it.

where to go from Calgary?

2009-07-22T03:37:00.009+08:00

For the past three years, I have been searching for a place to study. Since there is no Classical painting instruction in Calgary, I have been at a crossroads. I have given serious thought to the following:

Academy of Realist Art, in Toronto
New York Academy of Art (still VERY interested!)
The art academy in St. Petersburg, Russia, where my teacher went
Palette and Chisel, in Chicago
Mims Studio, in North Carolina
Gage Academy of Art, in Seattle (where Juliette Aristides teaches)
Studio escalier (for a summer intensive; hoping to go in summer 2010)
Other places

I have thought of moving to Thailand, or Mexico, or Peru, or somewhere else that is cheap, so I can simply paint all day without having the distraction of work.

I have considered going back to Taiwan to study with Teacher Clock.

I have thought of moving to Taos, to be close to David Leffel. (I even asked him during the workshop if there was an advantage to living in Taos; ie: could I paint with him? He laughed and I think said no, but said I should visit. But I don't know if he meant visit Taos, or visit him, and if he meant visit him, did he really mean visit him?)

Anyway, after asking David's opinion, I have decided to move to New York to attend the Art Students League, where David's student, Gregg Kreutz, teaches. His style is very similar to David Leffel's (and Rembrandt's...), and it would be thrilling to study with a student of The Master. I figure 4 years there would put me in a pretty good spot to consider teaching, or even opening my own studio. Of course, there is the problem of affording to live in New York without working, studying full-time...but I'll make it happen. (I may end up working part-time, or teaching privates. And will hopefully make some money selling works, and maybe getting scholarships. Or maybe a sponsor. That'd be cool. My mother just told me that she sponsored someone working in Africa: sent her $25 a month for 5 years. Maybe I can convince someone to do that.) I am hoping to get some shows and to sell some pieces, and it has occurred to me to approach our art-buying CEO to see if he's interested in purchasing one or more of my works as a charitable donation, but not sure yet how to do that. I also knew someone in Taiwan who had a sale of works when he was leaving the country. Not sure how he did, but it was kind of a fundraiser-type thing. Maybe I could do that. Not sure where else to sell, though, since I am not in a gallery, and won't be any time soon.

Foot studies and an impromptu still life

2009-07-22T00:09:00.015+08:00

Here are some of my latest figure drawings - or rather, sketches from figure drawing sessions:
I did one entire figure (in about 20 minutes), which came out "okay", but nothing worth posting. And as I started in on the shading, I pretty much ruined it...

Speaking of shading, I guess I got a little heavy-handed with these, too, but I'm still posting them:

The pose was quite difficult for me: staring straight into the palm of the foot, in shadow. I was slightly uncomfortable with my setup, too, craning my neck around my easel and trying to avoid staring into the light. But I did the best I could, and these are the results. No excuses: an Artist has to overcome such struggles. It's the end result that matters. (Or, well, it's the learning that matters, but who doesn't like a nice end result??) As Geoff said, the foot is the hardest thing to draw (something along those lines, anyway), and it definitely was challenging for me. Fortunately, my Saturday evening, 3-days-without-coffee depression left by Sunday, and on Monday, I was feeling dandy, as I am Tuesday (today). Let's hope I can keep my spirits up. I am back to drinking coffee, albeit somewhat less, but could there be a coincidence that I haven't had a daily glass of wine since sometime last week?

And the other day, I think Saturday night, I was working on a portrait of Sherry, and after that, around 10:00, I thought, I'm just going to do a little still life painting, just because I want to, and because I have the stuff set up, and I've been working towards getting a nice still life composition, but haven't quite got it 100% figured out yet. (I did a nice little sketch as an exercise in composition, but I haven't been able to get the physical objects to co-operate...need a smaller bowl, I think, and the bowl shouldn't be white, and I just swapped out a smaller vase and it looks better....so it's coming along....Value Village, here I come!)

So this is the end result (...for now: I'm thinking of adding some cool colours (blues, basically) which are entirely absent, since I just did this with the colours that happened to be on my palette: mostly Venetian red and umber and black and white and a little yellow ochre).

David Leffel mentioned challenging yourself to do, for example, several paintings using the same limited palette, but make each painting tend towards one or other of the colours. For example, if you use Prussian blue, umber, yellow ochre, white, and Venetian red (a nice sounding limited palette if I ever heard one!), make one of the paintings favour Prussian blue, one favour yellow ochre, one umber, one Venetian red. So that's what I'm going to do, although I may add in a little orange, since the Venetian red + yellow ochre doesn't seem to yield a very orangey colour. (But I'll try that again first.) Anyway, it's a challenge I am going to give to myself in the future.

Portrait from David Leffel workshop

2009-07-21T22:00:00.008+08:00

I'd like to share some of the things that I learned at the David Leffel workshop in LA, June 26-July 2. David is one of my two favorite living artists (the other being Richard Schmid; sure, I love many other artists, but these two really blow my mind), and I was looking for a workshop with him, and when I saw the one in LA, seats still available, I jumped at the chance. The guy is pushing 80, so I figured, he may not be teaching for too much longer, and I want to have that pleasure in this lifetime. So I went to the workshop (which was being recorded to DVD, and we all get a free copy after it is made, woot!), and bought his book, and bought Sherrie McGraw's book, and looking forward to his next book of self-portraits.

It was a wonderful week of art, lots of ideas swarming in my head. (For example, I heard from another student that David Leffel has a painting based on the cadence "da-da-da-DUM" from - what is that, Beethoven's Ninth? Also, he told me how, in one of my portraits, the dark should be swirling one way, and the light swirling over top, like the yin and yang symbol...) I dove into both of his books (which I got him to autograph - maybe I'll scan his signature, because it is BEAUTIFUL!), and started reading Sherrie's book (which I am now reading in its entirety for the second consecutive time).

Some of the more technical things that I learned from him include the following:

make your shadows COLOURFUL (add red, yellow, Venetian red, etc). The reason why Classical paintings seem colourful is their colourful shadows (compared to the colourless shadows of the Impressionists, for example).

The darkest dark (pure black) advances and can therefore NOT be "in the air" next to ("behind") the figure. (How many times have I seen this in portraits!??). The lightest portion needs "air" in which to be able to "turn". (In other words, if pure black advances, it can't be behind the figure, and therefore, the portion of the figure that is next to the black does not have a background behind it.)

Keep hair and background very close in value.

Keep everything simple: large simple blocks of colour.

Paint lightly and allow the underpainting to show through to achieve different colours/values in the skin.

Make your first brushstrokes in the light carry across the room, and use enough paint to have something to work with (ie: leave a thickness to be able to spread around).

(not directly from the course, but from reading his book and Sherrie's book): SEE the beauty you want to paint. We paint what we are looking for, so if you want to capture beauty, you have to see it! (Otherwise, you may "only" capture accuracy, for example.)

Keep asking questions: what if I pair these two colours, these two objects, etc?

Colours on a single object need a commonality (for example, the green and the red on an apple need to have some common colour: a blue-green and a blue-red, for example)

Finally, this is the last portrait that I started, on the last day, right after the demonstration in the morning. I felt that I internalized some of the things that he taught us.

(I am NEVER going to touch this painting, but will leave it as a reference - and as an inspiration to keep painting.)

up from down

2009-07-16T05:59:00.004+08:00

I've been feeling a bit depressed lately, trying to get out from under that weight. It takes a toll on everything, not least of all my art. (My productivity goes down to zero.) So anyway, I'm trying to be more positive, getting rid of all the crap I've built up, working on being more positive. And working on working more. So here are some of my more recent works, including the one more successful portrait from the David Leffel workshop.

I did do a little work last night. Trying to nail down a still life composition. I mean the actual setup of the objects - cuz I have a nice little sketch, but I haven't been able to arrange my real-life objects to mirror that composition. I think my bowl is too large, so I'm going to V-V Boutique today to see if I can find another bowl. (And buying a teapot for work, so I eschew the coffee which makes me into a crazy-man, or more often than not, up-and-down mopey-man).

But while I was sketching the still life arrangement that I had in place, I realized something quite valuable: the sweet spot was too low! I had instinctively placed the orange that is going to be my main focal point about 1/3 the way up the picture plane, on one of the lines where you're "supposed" to put stuff...and I realized it wasn't in the location that *I* like! I prefer what I call the 60/40 composition: place your sweet spot about 40% of the way up the canvas, which is a considerable distance up from 1/3. (OK: theoretically 7%...but in reality, the picture looks almost cut in half, instead of in thirds, and this is a huge difference. And I could be off on my 60/40 ratio, because I've never measured it beyond, well, THIS fits into THAT once and maybe...half again.) I double-checked my sketch, and sure enough: I had placed it according to the 60/40 "platinum mean." Looking back at my new sketch, the objects seemed WAY too forward, almost in-your-face. That's not what I want to achieve. I am hoping for quiet contemplation of beauty. And the difference between seeing a beautiful woman and having her scream in your face is pretty noticeable. When I can, I'll post photos of all these things to show what I am talking about.

So I'm going to revisit that composition, I guess on Friday night or the weekend. I want to create a charcoal drawing of the still life before I do it in oils. Like the most recent charcoal still life I posted, which I want to now do as an oil painting.

I have to figure out cloth, though - as in, how to lay it down, create fold, which way is it going to orient in order the make the most interesting composition?

My latest charcoal drawing and an earlier figure drawing

2009-05-28T03:17:00.004+08:00

(Completed with the help of Mr. Dean Miller at Swinton's Art Supply - a fine painter and an all-around nice dude.)

Here is a figure done slightly more recently:

This figure was done earlier:

Plein air season is here!

2009-05-25T01:04:00.007+08:00

I've official started plein air painting season. I intend to go out at least once a weekend (hopefully more), and I'd like to get out sometime after work and paint in the evening. I want to practice a ton before I go to Peru, where I want to paint twice a day there so I can come back with a nice collection of plein air paintings.

Anyway, here is the first offering of the year:

I tried to foucs on two things: keeping my colours bright and fresh, and then keeping the shape of the tree accurate. I kinda think I need some more lights throughout, and somehow the tree looks a little cartoony, but overall, I like it. It's the first painting I've done that I don't mind calling "cute."

Cloth Study

2009-04-20T23:13:00.004+08:00

This is the latest painting study I did at Geoff's. The colours in the photo are off - the cloth is much redder than that (red-violet), and the top of seat isn't that yellow - but it gives you an indication.

I'm quite happy with it - especially the intensity of the hues. The drawing is OK, too, although some of the cloth got a bit muddled on the third painting session, because it was removed and placed on again, and of course, the folds didn't cooperate by falling back into the exact places they were before. Which is something a painter has to deal with, and I dealt with it half successfully.

I want to do more cloth studies, maybe even a drapery series.

The Hammer

2009-04-10T02:53:00.004+08:00

So, I have hired a life coach, Chris Hammer, who I am calling "Hammer" or "HAMMER" or "The Hammer." I am hoping that he can help me to write what I need to write, paint what I need to paint, maybe start a band again, I dunno. I should say just figure out what it is I NEED to do, and then do it, and be happy along the way.

This comes on the heels of last week, where I spent two figure drawing sessions unable to achieve anything: I ended up with a scrubbed-down canvas at the end of 2 days. And that's "okay" in itself, but I beat myself up pretty bad about it, and was earnestly considering abandoning painting entirely. I felt that I "am not" a painter (as if that is something that is bestowed upon you, independent of actually spending a lot of time painting!), and that I might as well spend my time on something else, or just give in and start watching a lot more TV.

But I hate TV.

So I started cleaning up my act, getting off coffee, not eating junk, eating lots more vegetables, doing more exercise. I also took the past few nights off, bought some new clothes, a cool hat, a few books I wanted, generally took care of myself in little ways that I had been neglecting. And hired a life coach.

Somehow in all of that, I totally turned around and started feeling fantastic! Which I still do (other than I've been finding it hard to get up in the morning). I am going to spent part of the day tomorrow finishing my plein air of the Bow River, then go for a bike ride, then do some figure drawing at night. I am going to focus on drawing for a while, both at figure drawing and at home. Part of the problem last week was that I simply couldn't see where my drawing was off. I was unable to see the figure accurately. It felt almost like a physical thing (though I am sure it is not). I would look at the figure, draw something, look at my painting, and I could tell there was a difference, but I was totally unable to see where I was going wrong. So for now, I am going to draw the figure, probably just a one-session block-in each time, and then focus on painting at home and with Geoff. Oh, and Doug Williamson and I have a paint date.

And what else?

I need a new place to live. But that's a story for another time.

latest figure painting

2009-03-16T10:02:00.005+09:00

OK, folks, here's my latest nude painting. I know it's kinda rough, and I had some difficulties getting the skin colour with the correct colour of highlights. The model has dark-toned skin and, well, that was hard. Skin is hard. I had a difficult time deciding what colour to make the shadows, which I know I know, should be like background colour in the darkest areas, and then they got really warm where they approached the light... and then cool highlights.... Something like that....

Anyway, here she be:

On Thursday, we start with this one dude who we painted one session before. I have decided I am going to do a block-in the first day (to keep up with that), and then start a painting (to get ready for the David Leffel workshop). Next weekend...oh, wait, we start painting the dude next weekend... Well, then, not sure who we're doing this Thursday. But I'll start with a block-in regardless. Want to keep up with the pencil.

In the mood!

2009-03-14T12:29:00.009+09:00

OK: this should be playing while you read this post:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bR3K5uB-wMA

Cuz I'm in the mood -- to paint, that is!

I'm working now on two oil sketches - one preparatory sketch for my Cutting Board and Grater still life, and one just for the hell of it, cuz I noticed this certain pitcher in our kitchen and thought it would be a cool still life object. Now I want to make that one into a full-fledged painting, too, but I gotta work on the sketch first. And I realized that I need to do a LOT more drawing, cuz my drawing skills don't cut it. In fact, if all I did between now and David Leffel was draw, I'd probably come out ahead... Still, though, oil painting is so damn alluring, I can't not paint. I'm sure The Leffster would want me to paint, too. I mean, come on!

[and yes: I will be posting my sketches when they are done....]

So more on David Leffel, or rather, well, more, including David Leffel: I started looking for other Classical painters in Calgary, I Googled realist painter + Calgary, and well, I can't remember if it was actually from that search, but eventually I came across this guy..... no, come to think of it, I'd been given his phone number at the arts supply store - slash - studio near my work. So forget realist painter + Calgary, other than to say, it didn't lead me anywhere.

So anyway, I called that guy (Doug Williamson), and we talked about painting together, yay!! So we're meeting Monday evening at the studio, and we'll talk about painting together then. Which is cool, because he is a much better painter than I am, and seems like a really cool guy.

So I'm hoping that I have a painting partner who is very suitable to my style. We're both fans of The Leff, and I get the feeling that we'll be able to talk about the kinds of things that Classical painters converse about: colour of light, how background colour influences colour choices, how much of the underpainting to leave showing through, I dunno, whatever comes up.

Skully

2009-03-07T08:20:00.005+09:00

The following skull studies are three of my four most recent oil sketches done at Geoff’s. Geoff has a human skull that he bought over eBay (and no, it doesn’t come from a prison in China, but rather from Africa – which is equally sketchy in my opinion, but at least it’s being put to good use…). Each was painted within a three-hour period.

It’s actually quite cool to paint a skull: it’s human head form, but bone is of course an entirely different plate of beans than flesh. Easier, since you don’t get the semi-transparent effect of skin. I drew some skulls in my anatomy drawing course at ACAD, but they were plastic models, and always really quick sketches. (And at times we were encouraged to draw them so large that they were cut off on all four sides of our gigantic drawing paper!)

The first one was a conscious effort to use chiaroscuro and to move from darkness/ambiguity to light/clarity of form. I hoped to approximate the kind of falling-off of detail that might occur in shadow. I was really blown away when I completed this sketch successfully in 3 hours. I hadn’t thought I could do something this finished in such a short time.

The second sketch was an effort not to paint the skull in the same way as the first sketch. One commonality between them, however, was the attempt to paint the lights more thickly, and to leave (as much as possible) the mid-tones as suggestions of form. This is a characteristic of my painting in general at this point.

The third sketch was done on a larger, smoother canvas. I also selected a different angle from which to paint. (This photo is slightly cropped on the right compared to the canvas, although the skull does go off the right-hand side of the canvas.) It is, beyond question I think, the most successful of the sketches, but on the other hand, it is probably the most timid, as I painted it more clearly throughout. It has the most detail, and besides a somewhat aborted start, was the easiest to paint.

Two days after the last skull painting, on a Saturday, the model didn’t show up, so the group painted…. The skull! I decided I’d had enough of old Skully, and went home to work on my latest oil sketch….and actually did work on my oil sketch...eventually. Would that it were finished so I could post it here (…and get to work on whatever’s next)!

...Speaking of David Leffel....

I FOUND A PAINTING WORKSHOP WITH DAVID LEFFEL IN JUNE!!!!!!

I haven't registered yet, but I am going to be in this workshop!

Paint to Emote? (Ish don't think so!)

2009-03-07T03:46:00.017+09:00

The question of emotions in art came up last night while painting the model. Another painter in the group commented on my work (which was at that time basically just a massy block-in of lights and darks), and I forget exactly how he put it, but he said something along the lines of it being dark and expressive of some emotion or other. And I replied, well, no, it should just be expressive of intense concentration, not any particular emotion, which he jumped on.

“You mean, you don’t think Art should express emotions?”

"Well, I'm not feeling any particular emotion at the moment."

"You're NOT!?"

“Uh….no….”

“Some comment about what a pity or something.... Then what is the purpose of making art?”

Now, I have a hard time responding to this question, because the purpose of making art is in the making of art. (It's like asking: what's the meaning of life? If you're living well, the answer is in the living!) I make art because I love art and I enjoy creating. in fact, I seem to get out of balance if not outright ill if I don’t create. I make Art so more Art exists.

But paint to emote?

I really don’t think so.

I mean, first off, which exact emotions is an artist supposed to be expressing? The emotion felt during the creation process? So, if you put 20 or 50 or 80 hours into a piece, do you have to hold that emotion for the duration? What if you paint something, wait for it to dry, then get back to it a week later? Should you sustain your intense feeling of anger for 2-3 weeks? Without letup? What if you paint one angry piece, then begin painting a happy piece while Anger is drying? Should you be angry while painting the angry piece, then happy while painting the happy piece? Is it even a realistic expectation that you can flick the emotional switch on and off just so you can do a painting? (I mean, if so, shouldn’t we be prescribing the painting of happy paintings to depressives?)

Then again, if you want to create a painting about blind rage, are you going to be able to control your brush while you’re in a fury?

And what kind of emotion is a painting of an apple supposed to evoke? (I suppose anger-because it’s red, after all. But wait, the painter was half-Chinese, and red is a joyful colour in China… But what about that complimentary green background? Doesn’t that suggest jealousy? And doesn’t that blue highlight suggest sadness? So, far from being a simple painting of an apple, it is an expression of happy-jealous sad-anger! Who knew?)

I think a lot of confusion arises over the question of inspiration in art, which then gets confused with the emotional state of the artist, or some emotional content that a painting is supposed to express. For the record, in my opinion, inspiration's usefulness is at the start of a project, before any painting or drawing has begun. It's the impetus to create a particular image. It's that fleeting Good Idea that you just have to get down on paper. But fleeting it is! Then it flies away to touch the next Artist on its list, while you sit down and plan out the painting (maybe), or at least sit in Concentration and with Patience, who take over until Inspiration returns - for the next project. You don't need inspiration to work on a painting. You need Diligence, Patience, Stickwithitty, Concentration, maybe a few of their friends. If you waited around for Inspiration to paint, you'd probably only get a few brushstrokes done a year. (Or maybe Inspiration just doesn't visit me as much as she does other artists...)

I also think that the desire to be "expressive" in art is generally a cover-up for laziness and lack of skill - which basically comes back to laziness. ("Oh, I didn't want to get the proportions of the body right because it's more expressive to draw them out of proportion." - THAT's how "expressive" is used in relation to Art.) I have yet to watch a serious painter at work with any visible emotion controlling them. It seems that concentration makes for better paintings. In my own experience, emotions just get in the way of working. (You can't buy a tube of Happiness, Anger, Pretension, etc. It all boils down to putting coloured blobs on canvas. Richard Schmid has said a lot of these things in his book.)

I mean, really, who cares what emotional state the artist is in during the creation process? How does knowing how the artist felt affect your appreciation of the work? (And you're never going to know for 99.9999999999999% of all artworks you ever gaze upon!) That kind of "knowledge" is just gossip, and it smacks of the kind of entitlement and obsession with self that Consumer Culture creates. ("I want this, I want that, I deserve it, you can't fail me because I am not a failure, and I'm an artist because I say I am!" This is basically what is being taught in art school.) Who cares what the artist is trying to express? We express ourselves all the time in every single action (take three sugars in your coffee? what does that express about you??), so why obsess about what someone is trying to express when they are holding a little stick with hairs on the end of it? I've never heard discussion about what a surgeon is trying to express, or those guys who do manual work that's nearly as important as what we painters do.....

Or maybe the emotions that count are those created in the viewer?

But how are you going to be able to control how people react to your piece? Someone who raises pet snakes will likely react differently to your painting of a snake than someone whose family was killed by adders while they watched helplessly from their perch atop the kitchen table. And again, what possible emotional impact are you expecting to arouse with a painting of a vase, or a flower, or a portrait, or a landscape? (I'm sure George W. Bush's mommy would react MUCH differently to a portrait of Shrub than I would!)

Now, I admit that, somehow, (great) Art creates some kind of stirrings in me, but I'm not convinced it interacts with the emotions per se. (Wikipedia lists 47 emotional states. There doesn't seem to be an art-appreciation emotion.)

The closest approximation to an emotion that I can think of that I would like to inspire in those who spectate my paintings, is something akin to sexual attraction. When I look at, for example, a luscious painting by David Leffel, I get that loss-of-breath, sinky-stomach feeling that reminds me of seeing a beautiful woman, nude. And THAT is what I aspire to! That kind of uncontrolled, reflexive “Holy shit!” reaction. I want people to look upon my drawings & paintings and think, “I gotta have that!” Which, upon reflection, is entirely independent of the content of the artwork itself! (I get that lusty feeling when I look at David Leffel's still lifes as much as I do looking at his portraits, self-portraits, figures, even at least one landscape.) And it has nothing to do with saleability of the works or making money.

It’s about enduring knowledge and beauty, not fleeting emotions.

Measuring stick versus eyeball

2009-02-16T02:44:00.004+09:00

Last figure drawing session - yesterday, in fact - I tried something a little different, something I've been hoping to work towards, to see how it suits me. Namely, instead of measuring (using a pencil or knitting needle), I relied on my eyeball to create the envelope and block-in. This is how it went:

I started a block-in, measuring the sides of the envelope, thought it was too small, enlarged and repositioned it on the paper, changed it, tried again. I was measuring using my pencil, and it just wasn't working. I could get, for example, the length and angle of the line from the head to the model's left elbow, then from the elbow to her foot, then again from the head to the opposite elbow, and from the elbow to the hip, but then things started to fall apart: the length of the line from the hip to the foot should have been greater than the length of the line from the foot to the left elbow, but wasn't, and generally, the lines wouldn't meet at their observed angles and lengths. I thought, the hell with it! So I started eyeballing the figure within the envelope that I had roughly sketched in.

That's when I really started to see the figure, or perhaps more accurately, see the shapes that created the figure: the lines and their relationships to one another. I started to actually see lines, as opposed to "arm" or "leg" or "indent from the hip into the waist." I was also able to mentally follow the length of a line, get to know it along the way, see its many angles and appreciate its length in relation to other lines. As well, for example, which elbow was higher off the horizon, where the knee fell in relation to the ankle, whether the bulge at the buttock was higher than the fingertips, etc. These are, of course, things I try to notice in general when drawing, but that day, I felt much more attuned to them.

Flush with the success of this block-in, I decided to continue doing only block-ins while Monika is modelling for us. (I have finished a drawing of her already, and granted, I didn't take the "twelve three-hour sessions" that Mr. Tony Ryder takes to complete one drawing, but I'm happy enough with the result. It could be better, yes, and it could have been done on much lighter paper..... but I'd forgotten to bring paper that day, and Geoff sold me what he had: really dark blue paper.)

So I did another block-in yesterday, same model, same pose, different angle. In fact, I've never drawn from this angle before (as I hadn't the previous block-in), and I decided that one of my goals while drawing only block-ins would be to change the angle each time, and ensure that I drew from "difficult" angles, and angles that I hadn't attempted before. (That said, there won't be a huge difference in perspective going forward, as I have already drawn from her foot, her side, and her head.) I have discovered that, in fact, there aren't really any "difficult" angles: if you observe carefully, it's all the same thing. I've also decided to keep these block-ins for potential future abstract figure drawings. I've also realized that I suffer greatly when I am not creating, so I need to keep something around for me to do, as well as have a project that motivates me to keep working. Hopefully, this will do that.

I am less pleased with the results of this block-in, which make the model look about 70 years old. On the other hand, I was happy that the eyeballing method continued to work, and rather well in my estimation. (I believe the biggest failure in this drawing is in capturing a likeness in the face.) So I will continue the Eyeball Method, doing block-ins only, for at least the next 3 sessions, as we have Monika for another weekend, and I don't know who on Thursday.

One step back

2009-02-13T23:06:00.006+09:00

Given my disastrous last figure drawing and my apparent inability to really get back into it this past drawing session, I have decided to take a step back and not (necessarily; unless I change my mind) work on a fully detailed artwork, but to practice drawing the block-in only. We have the same model for 4 more sessions, and a different model on Thursday evening, so if I stick to this plan, I'll do 5 different block-ins, 4 of one model (Monika; of whom I already have a finished piece), and all from different angles. Let me explain how I draw figures.

I draw using the "Tony Ryder method," which is probably really the Ted Seth Jacobs method, which he probably learned from his teacher, etc. And anyway, loads of people do this, so.... just "in the same way that Tony Ryder does."

And what that means is first drawing an outside "envelope," which is a vague outline of the overall shape. So, like Jesus would look like a big T, for example. Fernando Freitas from the Academy of Realist Art in Toronto said that it should be achieved in 6 or fewer lines. From there, you continue to refine: add the arms, the legs, the head, the waist. And then continue to refine, getting finer and finer and finer. Here is a great illustration of the process from the man himself: http://www.tonyryder.com/demo/block_in/index.htm

So anyway, last time we got together, I took my time doing an envelope and block-in, not concerned that it took me a great long while to decide where to put the figure on the page, then I enlarged it, then it wouldn't fit the page (I wanted to keep her cute, upturned foot, not have to crop it out), then I moved it, then I gave up measuring (which clearly wasn't working) and took to eyeballing the whole thing, and finally I got my block-in. With only slight problems. (For example, I didn't realize until I measured that the model's knee was quite a bit higher than her head; it looked like a pretty straightforward downward angle from head to foot to me!) Keep in mind that each of these steps took somewhere on the order of 15 minutes each, so I was well into the evening by the time I had the initial block-in in place.

At that point, I decided it would probably be worthwhile just practicing THAT only: just placing the figure on the page and eyeballing the first rough block-in. Or however much I get done in 3 hours. I ended up adding some rough shading, thinking it wouldn't hurt to show the shadow side of the figure and thus give it some feeling of depth and roundness. I kind of regret this, since the shading is too rough: I tried to accomplish too much in one session, at least shading-wise. I attempted to be too accurate, which is clearly impossible in a 3-hour session. At least I know for next time.

So now, what I intend to do is draw in the envelope, and then continue to refine it (sans shading) until the end of the drawing session. I should, theoretically, end up with an accurate line drawing of the figure - and I may end up using these drawings for future semi-abstract figures such as the ones I posted recently.

Or not.

On Crap Drawing Days..

2009-02-09T09:56:00.005+09:00

I had such a miserable drawing session today. Not entirely sure why, although I can think of some things that may possibly have influenced me:

* I'd already gone out and done some plein air painting (more or less successful), and may have been tired;

* I may have had one cup of coffee too many (three altogether)

* I do NOT want to blame the model (too much), but she did have difficulty getting back into her pose...and then holding it - although that's what you get, and I need to be able to work through that.

Other than that, I don't know. It just seems like one of those days. I've had trouble holding things, and now a bit of trouble typing, so I may just be out of synch with the universe. Not sure what causes that.

So, but then how do you handle that?

On the one hand, I feel that the rest of the evening is going to be a total waste, and I might as well do anything other than draw or paint, cuz I seem to be unable to do either. On the other hand, I feel that maybe I ought to try to work through my frazzledness. Maybe if I get into the habit of working no matter how well I'm working, that eventually, I'll be able to produce something decent no matter how I feel. I don't know.

I probably should post my drawing here to show what happens on an off-day....too bad I discarded it immediately after the drawing session came to an end. And I was a bit pissed and told Geoff I don't want to draw that model again because of her constant off-ness from position. But then I thought about it, and like I said above, I think I just need to work through that. If I select an acuter angle, the differences in position of her legs won't matter so much. From the angle Geoff was drawing from, the difference in position hardly mattered at all, since the front leg is nearly obscuring the rear leg. So maybe I can draw her more from the side. As it was, either her waist and legs were totally off, or her torso, causing her arms to be out of alignment, too. I spent to much time erasing and re-drawing (as did another guy there). It's frustrating. It's also one of the things you have to deal with when you have live models. I don't blame her. I was unable to deal effectively with the movement. So hopefully next time I'll be better equipped to get the landmarks down accurately and ignore the differences in position.

I can only hope.

Recent figurative works

2009-02-07T04:45:00.011+09:00

The inspiration for this post came this morning, when I opened my portfolio to retrieve the drawing of Monica that I finished last night, and (re-)discovered the sketch I did last week when we had a different model (Laureen) that I achieved it in one 3-hour session (usually not nearly long enough for me to produce something worthwhile).

Pulling it out of my portfolio, I realized that the Laureen sketch is to some degree less horrible than I had remembered it being upon its completion. It was something of an experiment with the media: I wanted to work in charcoal, and yet had an urge to do the block-in in pencil, mostly just to feel the pencil in my hands. Hard to explain this feeling, but I just wanted to be holding a pencil loosely in my fingers, making broad stroked across the page. This is a simple joy for me. (When I am in the right mindset...) and yet, as I said, I had the urge to work in Charcoal...so I did both! and then, my sketch being somewhat 'incomplete'-feeling (which is another way of saying 'boring'), I decided to spice it up using these super-cool fleshy-colours pastel pencils I bought specifically to draw portraits and figures. I threw in some colour, but by the time the modelling session ended, I wasn't feeling overly upbeat about the outcome.

And then today, I pulled it out, and thought, "That's not half bad." I also thought it wasn't half-good, but then I figured it was probably half good and not half-bad. And if there's any percentage left over from that (which it kinda sounds like there must be), then I don't know how to assign it.... (Maybe the leftover bit is 'ugly'?)

It also fits into my recent (as of this morning, I believe) urge to create a series of semi-abstract female nudes based on the Medusa mythology. (Reading John Barth's Chimera got me to thinking about Medusa - a figure I have always loved!) For some reason (maybe the stance?), this figure looks Greek goddess-y. And I like to think about poor Medusa when she was a young, beautiful woman, before Athena punished her - for being the victim of a rape, no less! Anyway, not sure how far into the myth (let alone the psychoanalysis!) I'll delve. Better to leave that to the critics, and the drawing to us Artists!

So here is the drawing I did of Monica, which I started before, and completed after, the mixed-media, mixed-results Laureen sketch. I've been drawing this way (super-tight, super-minimalist) in order to learn from Geoff (cuz this is how he draws, inspired by his hero Tony Ryder, who I think he learned from at some stage; whose book is fabulous in terms of knowledge, and I think his skills are unimpeachable), but now I feel that I have an introduction to that style (not exactly been there, done that), and now I am feeling the urge to do something different. Something more mixed-media. Something more me. So look for something different on the horizon. I intend to use the Thursday night sessions to experiment with mixed media stuff, possibly attempting an entire piece per 3-hour session. But I don't know yet what I'll do, so we'll just see.

Isn't that exciting??

In almost perfect reverse order, here are the first two figure drawings that started this entire cycle. They are "recycled" from a failed figure drawing - the first drawing I did at Geoff's place, last September. I drew a woman named Fatima, and the drawing looked entirely juvenile, and I didn't have time to finish it (it sucked anyway), so I had it taped up on my wall, and one day took it down and copied the pose into these 2 sketches. Which I think is a neat idea, because it allows me to profit even from failed drawings, and also allows me to work (albeit with built-in in accuracy, though I don't think it matters too much) on figurative works without a model.

Did you notice she has 4 feet? I totally did that on purpose!

This is actually the first one. Sometimes I prefer this one, sometimes I prefer the previous/following one. (I know: it's confusing putting things in reverse order! Why'd I do it? I believe laziness is a big part of it...)

Today's tune of the day: NW3 by The Pogues. Or Mother Mo Chroi by Shane McGowan, if you prefer. Can't get that tune out of my head. I must've listened to it a dozen times today!

And Shane McGowan has to be just about the nastiest looking mofo whose artistry I nevertheless utterly respect and even envy.

Crap apple and gourd

2009-02-05T11:27:00.008+09:00

I was going to post this painting back a couple of pages, since it's the first painting of this series (more or less; I started it first but then it dragged on....and on......and on.......), but I've decided to post it all on its own so I can talk about it in terms of something I realized after starting to paint it.

Namely: don't just paint everything in view, even if it's there.

So here's an example of painting things that are there, but don't really make sense. I know, I know, the wall creates a diagonal that is elemental to the composition - or at least that's how I envisioned it when I set it up - but let's face it: the wall just distracts from the painting. Like: wall what? Huh? What the hell's that wall doing there? I can hear yuh from here.

But if you remember, it all felt so edgy when I was setting it up! All dangerous and in-your-face! Now it just seems like a ridiculous composition: the subject is far too forward, the entire background is distracting, irrelevant, and uninteresting, and that "edgy" composition has a tendency to lead my eye into the open middle area where there is basically nothing to look at. ("Oh look - a brushstroke!")

Maybe that's why I absolutely hated doing this little painting. I can't really say why, otherwise. I tried to focus on creating each of the parts well: make the wooden panels look like wood, make the table top look white but containing lots of different colours, do the same thing for the cloth, and reproduce the apple as close to what I actually saw ("accurate verisimilitude") as possible. But then I left it for a few days for whatever reason (Sherry was still here for the first week, then I totally lost motivation to work on this painting), and I was doing other things with Geoff, and it just dragged on and on. So, finally, I gave myself a firm deadline: last Monday was the absolute last day to work on it, no matter what state it was in. And it was in some pretty sorry states before I got it to this point and said, "Enough!" (I don't think I actually said that, but I mean, figuratively.) In fact, I'd done possibly even better than this the very first night I worked on it. Shoulda just kept it as-is. But the thing is, it wasn't light enough (how many times have we heard that refrain?), and I needed to re-work the white table top (which wasn't "white") and I'd wanted to put more detail into the cloth. As it turned out, I couldn't keep the apple as yellow as I saw it with my eyes (don't trust the photo: it's too blue and too dark; for starters, the cloth is way more orange than that, and for seconders, the large yellow-ochre splotch in the middle of the background isn't really that obvious...).

So anyway, let's just say that sometimes painting doesn't go as planned. Which we all know, I'm sure, but it's somewhat maddening when a.) it's inexplicable, and b.) you (I) don't have much time to work on art to begin with. As it is, I'm trying to work in pencil drawing, charcoal drawing, and oil painting all once a week, figure drawing on Thursday night and Saturday and Sunday mornings, figure drawing practice (ie: practice drawing eyes, noses, mouths, etc) once a week, and hey, I'd really like to work on the abstract series that I think I will be able to get shows/recognition for....and also a novel..... How the hell do you fit in everything that you want to do? I guess you have to be (in the words of some anonymous student of Dr. Salahub) "a long-liver."

So anyway, I may return to this apple at some point - certainly the cloth, which I've already used in a painting (Cutting Board and Grater) - but my next project will be the gourd that I failed to execute while painting with Geoff, for two reasons: a.) I failed first time and want to prove that I can do it reasonably well, b.) it's just starting to rot. I already did a pencil drawing of it that is begrudgingly acceptable - well, here it is:

If I'm good, I'll post this, then immediately go work on my charcoal drawing of it. Which I do think I will do... It'd be cool to make a pastel pencil drawing of it, too, and an oil painting. That's going to have to wait for Friday, though: Friday is oil night (at least until I get busy with loads and loads and loads of social engagements).

I don't know what it is, maybe I'm bored with drawing simple subjects (I do want to move on from single-object drawings), but I just can't seem to sit down and draw decently. I rush too much and do a crappy job. And I can't believe I didn't even attempt a shadow. For shame!

Then again, I haven't been drawing for an hour a day as I used to. Not sure if I can get back into that, now that I have a real job that requires real hours, and takes 2 hours of my day in commuting time and what am I doing over lunch hour you ask? Tuesday and Thursday is yoga now, and Monday/Wednesday/Friday shall be weights. And supposing at some point I don't feel up to physical activity, I'll likely bring a pen and ink drawing to work on. But I'm not expecting to get much art done over lunch. I need the exercise. It feels really good. Disregarding the pain, of course.

Still Fish

2009-01-31T11:02:00.005+09:00

It's interesting painting with Geoff - not only because he knows a lot, and gets interesting things to paint, and because it gets me painting at all, but also because our points of view are mildly different, which makes sometimes for interesting differences of opinion.

For instance - Geoff is very much from the paint-what-you-see school, by which I mean that he paints exactly what he sees with no arty monkey-business: no visible brushstrokes, no exaggeration of any kind. It's very spot-on, very tight, very beautiful. (His images are authoritative, although I prefer a little brushiness, if only in the background.)

So as I was finishing The Fish (Herring & Sausage), Geoff commented to me: "You should add some of the background colour" (referring to the cloth hanging behind - far behind - the still life), "and maybe even see if you can get some of the folds in."

"Yeah, " I said, "but I can only see a tiny sliver of the curtain. I don't know why I would want to add it in."

"Because it's there!" was his reply.

OK: yeah: a pretty good reason.

So I added it in.

Thing is - it looked totally out of place: a random slice of a colour that didn't exist anywhere else in the painting.

I took it back out.

And then I came up with a damn good reason: being there isn't a good enough reason to include something in a painting: it has to be there and be relevant.

That, I think is a/the difference between Geoff and me!

Still lifes with Geoff

2009-01-28T07:45:00.021+09:00

I now have a painting buddy: Geoff. I started attending the figure drawing sessions at his house in I think September, after seeing his poster up on the walls at ACAD. I was trying to get some portfolio pieces together to apply to the New York Academy of Art (which I am now no longer going to do - at least not this year). After I went once or twice, I realized that I'd actually seen one of his pieces for sale at the Show & Sale at ACAD. I even remembered the price.

So I started drawing and painting with Geoff, and since we share a more or less common idea about Art (ie: that it is about more than just "having fun"), and seem to get along quite well (as long as I can put up with him telling me that my "stylized painting actually worked!"), we have been doing some still life paintings together, initially with the idea that we'd do a "larger" still life at the end of it. (It was supposed to be this week, but then I got really sick.)

While we were painting together, I tried to paint more or less the way he does, or at any rate, to learn what I could from his style of painting. (I'll admit that I still don't really know how he paints. It's a mystery to me: he uses these little tiny #0 or #2 round brushes, starts in one corner of the object and kinda stripes his way to the opposite end of the object, everything rendered perfectly before moving on.) I also tried "poor man's sight-size": that is, raising the (small) canvas/board to the same exact level as the object, marking the top and bottom of the object as I saw it, but then not bothering with a plumb line or being picky about measuring. Geoff does NOT measure (or, rather, he uses only his eyes to measure, no tools), and so I was/am trying to learn that from him as well. (Though I still do a bit of measuring, especially in figure work.)

The first still life we did was an egg: a "rounding" exercise, as Geoff called it. (The roundness of the egg is similar to the roundness found on the human body; the colour of a brown egg is similar to the colour of flesh. Ergo it's a great exercise for those who enjoy painting the human body.) We attempted to capture the lights, dark lights, shadow, terminator, reflected light, cast shadow, local colour...um, anything else? We did it in one sitting (ie: three hours, which seems like a ridiculous amount of time to paint one egg...and yet, mine still isn't light enough!)

Apparently, we also did a pear, which I think was the 2nd still life object we did. Mine came out pretty dark.

After that, we painted a cute little eggplant - same kinda deal as the egg, just a different colour. (Notice all the "wasted graphical energy"in the background...)

Next, we painted a gourd over two days. Mine failed miserably, so I scraped it down. Sorry.

After that, we painted two African violet leaves in a glass of water. I was still painting "Geoff style" but feeling kinda trapped by it. Still, it was an excellent exercise in observational accuracy. I was also trying to paint much tighter than I normally do - without the "wasted graphical energy" that Geoff complains about. (Basically anything that doesn't have to be there.) I was, in essence, attempting to paint only what I saw. I want to resist using the word "photographic" in my description (since photography brings a host of its own problems, such as lens aberrations and lack of colour in shadow), so I will say that I was attempting 'visual verisimilitude'. How's that grab ya?

Geoff's drawings and paintings are very tight, very clean - very nice. I like them quite a bit, and yet I do not wish to draw or paint in that style (except briefly to study it). It is my opinion that there is no wasted graphical energy if the picture turns out nicely, and so for the next painting, of radishes, I went back to my familiar style of painting. I attempted to leave part of the background showing through in the larger leaf in this painting, but I ended up painting over much more of it than intended, essentially ruining the attempt. (Geoff also uses a tinted canvas, so I asked him why, since he does not allow any of it to show through. He said it was to avoid the glaring white of the pristine canvas. To each his own.)

Our last still life painting together so far was a return to eggs: one brown hen egg and two quail eggs. I had to somewhat muscle my way in between Geoff and his girlfriend, who was painting with us: Geoff had kindly left for me the angle that he preferred - and one that I detested! It was looking straight into the light, which admittedly gave a nice rim light on the eggs, but the problem for me was that the hen egg and the 1st quail egg were more or less on the same exact plane, creating a boring dynamic, and the 2nd quail egg was all but obscured behind the hen egg. How this was supposed to be such a beautiful angle was beyond me. But I was able to stick my easel where it didn't belong and pound out this painting. I remember nearly finishing the first day, then I came late for the next painting session, got back in there, pretty much buggered everything up, and finally more or less salvaged it. Again, I tried - and failed - to let the background show through (in the brown quail egg), and the hen egg at least is likely not as light as it ought to be - I have a hard time getting my lights light enough and also retaining chroma when painting alla prima.

Winter plein air painting

2009-01-22T12:43:00.013+09:00

I just lost my post and had to start over from scratch. (I love old-fashioned phrases like that - which we are losing in the face of 'progress' and 'modernity'. Wonder how that phrase originated?)

So here are my thoughts on plein air painting at the Bow River:

Thanks to the warm weather we've been having -- Chinook winds have blessed us with double-digits highs for some days; today was I suspect around 8 or 9 degrees -- I decided to do some plein air painting. I haven't done any in a while, not since I left Taiwan I don't think, and I wanted to get outside and enjoy the warm air. So the past three days, I have been painting part of the Bow River. I picked a spot on the 10th Street Bridge and faced northwest. My original intention had been to paint the bridge to the NW of that bridge (I don't know what it is called), but I decided to paint instead the grand Bow in all its frozen glory, as well as some of the north shore, trees, bushes, and the hills in the background.

Before I go any further, let me preface this by saying that I tend to panic quite quickly when painting landscapes. I'm not sure why it is -- I think it's the sheer complexity of the subject matter. (I have to paint every single twig on every single tree?) Well, I know I don't have to paint that way, like my man Andrew Wyeth (who passed away on January 15; and though I like his stuff a lot, I didn't even know he wasn't dead, so it was kind of a double shock: oh, he's alive? and now he's dead?) or like my main man Richard Schmid. In fact, Richard Schmid, in his incomparable book, Alla Prima: Everything I Know About Painting -- (which is a lot) -- says this: "I regard meticulously detailed paintings done today as naive, as if the artist lacked the ingenuity to show detail in a more fascinating way. Even when such paintings are reasonably successful, they evoke little more than (my) admiration for the patience required to do them."

I walked down 10th Avenue (having first purchased an easel, as I didn't have one), approached the riverside to see if I could paint from there, didn't like the angle, continued across the bridge, stopping at the first little alcove built for gawking at the river, didn't like that angle, continued to the second alcove, like it, and set up my easel and canvas board facing northwest towards the opposite bank of the river. I'd wanted to paint the bridge in the distance, but quickly scrapped that idea: it didn't seem well-placed in the composition: too far to the left, indeed in the extreme upper left-hand corner, which seemed to lead the eye into the painting...and then what? Not much to look at from there. So I scanned around with my hand cupped into a, um, cup shape, over my eye, and eventually settled on a composition. It is subtler, ie: perhaps not as eye-catching at first as the bridge, but I prefer the shape of the bank and the expanse of ice in the foreground. I look forward to doing all that using my palette knife.

I laid in a wash using paints thinned with turpentine, then went over that with slightly thicker paint - eventually totally covering the wash (at least in the sky), which made me wonder if the wash was a worthwhile step? It's how I'm used to starting a painting, and it shows through in the foreground ice (albeit a little too orangey), so I guess I'll give it some thought. I brushed in the mid-ground (ie: the bank) and some general ideas of the colour I wanted for the ice before laying the paint on thick with the palette knife. I was happy to get to that stage, as I just knew that was the way to handle the ice.

The only thing was, when I wrapped up my painting session after about 2 hours (I was cold, had to pee, and was going to my friend's house to paint), I was not at all pleased with the result. in fact, took my palette knife and scraped the entire thing down. And to my amazement, it looked much better! Somehow, scraping it down was exactly what I needed to salvage the painting.

On my second outing, I returned to the exact same spot, set up my easel, and started to paint. I didn't get far. I was confronted by all these leafless shrubs in the background, which made for an annoyingly transparent screen: they were a light greyish, but the background behind them was quite dark. How do I handle that? In fact, how do I handle all those damn trees and bushes? There was no way I was going to paint in each and every one. I knew that wasn't the way to go, anyway. In fact, I already knew the answer, I just hadn't stumbled onto it:

to simplify any subject, squint down and paint the lights and darks as you see them.

When I finally remembered to do that (advice from Richard Schmid again), I was able to block in simple lights and darks and the painting progressed much better. It began to have the "shape" of the scene I was painting (especially when I stood back about 8 feet), although I was again unable to finish - for more or less the same reasons as before.

Note to self: ease up on the consumption of liquids before going out to paint, and take a pee break immediately before setting up, if possible. Anyway, I was heading over to Geoff's for more still life painting, so I didn't have hella long to paint anyway. After an hour and a half, I had to leave, and since the weather was turning nasty after that, it would be while before I could go back and finish it.

In fact, a week later, I still haven't finished it. Here is the painting as-is in its unfinished state:

Oh yeah: and another thing that I realized while doing this painting is that I can use sight-size to guarantee a fair bit of accuracy. Once I realized this, I measured the distance from the right-hand edge to the right-most tree trunk, then to the clump of trees to the left of that, and finally to the far left-hand edge - which was much further out than I'd expected from my viewpoint! On the other hand, the expanse of ice in the forefront was pretty much spot-on to what I'd expected, since I had hunkered down to compare the canvas to the scene before I started painting, and was therefore certain I'd be able to fit in the dark clump of ice in the foreground. (I sure hope that ice remains more or less static so that everything I mention here ends up in the final painting!!)

Day One of New Working Method

2009-01-02T15:26:00.007+09:00

I got myself set up to work in the sight-size method of drawing and painting. Set my easel up next to my (simple) still life (a green apple on an orange cloth), got a small canvas board and built a viewfinder out of cardboard: cut it to the same size as the canvas board and taped in string across the horizontal and vertical middles. Put tape down on the floor where I was supposed to stand each time, lined up a piece of tape with a line drawn in marker down the middle to line up with my string in the viewfinder, and a piece of tape that matched the level of the cloth when everything was aligned, and I was ready to go.

First thing I discovered is that sight-size method is a bitch. It's ridiculously difficult to measure the exact distance from one thing to another using a knitting needle (and I quickly switched to my left hand so I could make marks in charcoal with my right hand). I also discovered why you're supposed to have your canvas at a 90 degree angle to the still life: so you can transfer your measurement without moving your body about, or without (as I did) looking at your canvas at a weird angle. I tried two times and erased everything before I got moving along on the third try.

I plotted a few points the best I could, then I kinda ran out of steam for simple plotting. (It was also getting somewhat late, maybe 10:00PM), so I ended up "eyeballing" the rest: drawing the apple the best I could by comparing my canvas to the real thing behind the crosshairs of my viewfinder. I wanted to get the main colours down today so I can finish the piece next painting time. (I am going to alternate painting and drawing.)

The second thing I discovered is that my composition sucks: the apple is way the hell in the front of the canvas, and 60% of the painting is background. (It seemed "exciting" and "edgy" when I did it, but looking at it now, it kind of sucks.) I remember trying to pull an art school composition in Teacher Clock's studio, and he was like, "Don't do that...." I may be able to salvage the composition if I beef up the background. Although I don't want the background to dominate. It *did* seem exciting and edgy when I looked through the viewfinder at it...

The last thing that I discovered - or maybe "discovered" is the wrong word - is that I'm not sure sight-size is for me. Or at least, I'm not sure this mathematical-seeming plotting of points on the canvas is for me. Then again, I DO want to progress in my drawing, and maybe this is the best way to get the skills. It seems difficult (excruciating, really) and inefficient and well, what's the adjective form of "drudgery"? (Drudgerious?) It feels drudgerious. (It feels like mathematics, and everyone knows how evil mathematics is.) In other words, it's probably going to do wonders for me if I stick with it. So I'm going to - at least for a while. I'm going to T-R-Y to do it "properly" (as I understand it): ie: plot a bunch of points on the canvas and connect the dots and get a totally realistic picture from that. However, I am sure I will also do what I did today: eyeball part of it just to get through it.

I also discovered that rubbing in a thin layer of the local colour of objects in the painting may not be a totally excellent idea. I think that's the way it's done when oil painting is done using glazes, but it occurred to me that what do you do with reflected light? It seems to me that you will end up with an unwanted layer of local colour where the reflected light is going to go. I'll have to look into that. Maybe you can simply layer the reflection over top and everything's cool.

Last day of being an unproductive non-Artist

2009-01-01T12:39:00.005+09:00

Well, I've been feeling crappy lately, depressed and unmotivated.

But all that has changed!

I think I was just drifting, not sure what to do about studying art. Well, a million thanks to Paul from the Learning to See website, who has inspired me to take up pencil, charcoal, and brush, and to work on a series of series of drawings and paintings. Pretty much the kind of thing I was looking for so I can become productive again. (And I am taking steps to stave off depression and listlessness and getting lazy and letting myself go over the holidays...)

So, on the last day of a shitty year, the last day of feeling shitty. From tomorrow, I am going to start working on a series of small charcoal, pencil and oil sketches. (I am particularly excited about using charcoal, as I have never used it the way he does - and now I intend to start learning.) I'm also excited to do small oil sketches, which is what Teacher Clock (鍾敦浩) in Taiwan recommended we do. (And I'm planning a date with David Leffel this year, so I want to work hard so the workshop pays off.)

Apropos of nothing, other than I came across this website today: wow!!!

So: to 2008: good riddance! To 2009: you're all mine, baby!!! I'll be posting my efforts here, both good and bad.

(PS: Despite what the blog entry says, it's still only crappy 2008.)

Back at the painting

2008-05-15T10:58:00.004+08:00

Back at the painting, and doing what I would say is the best bit of painting I've ever done in my entire EVER! I started a new oil painting for the June group show, and it's just been going swimmingly - if a bit slow. Swimming upstream, I guess.

One thing, or THE thing, that's making it hard is that I first painted a background colour over the entire canvas (a typical start), but I am trying to allow that colour to show for all my mid-tones. Which means I am only adding the darkest darks and the lights. So it's difficult to not touch the mid-tones. Or to get the darks/lights to blend with the pre-established mid-tone naturally. If that makes sense.

I think I'd better than the Universe for this little gift and keep working hard to save it, cuz by rights, I SHOULD be totally sucking, given the amount I didn't work over the past month.

Something I stmbled upon while listening to SFU pipe band videos on YouTube. w00t! This guy's piping is so good it's unbelievable:

Birth & Species solo show images

2008-01-17T12:10:00.001+09:00

Air is for everybody

2007-07-17T01:02:00.000+08:00

Here are my pleine air paintings from Taiwan. I haven't photographed them all, and I'm doing more, but these are the ones I have the time to put up.

My first one, looking out over the mountain right below the International House of Taipei (IHOT). I did it all with a palette knife, as I had forgotten to buy turpentine to clean my brushes with.

This is the second one I did - a dude drying his clothes in a gazebo:

This one is Confucius from far away:

...and this one is Confucius up close:

Rain, rain, come every day!!

2007-07-12T00:30:00.000+08:00

I had a beautiful day!! I had one of the best days ever in Taiwan!!! I had one of the best days of my life!!! Ranked in the top 100, I'd say, at least.... Probably top 20, maybe top 10. To be honest, I wouldn't have any idea of any kind of ranking. Just a darned wonderful day!!!

So here's how it broke down:

Up late after drinking 2 large-can beers and going to sleep at 1:00 or later, cuz I'd done a TERRIBLE job in charcoal class and felt it was a case of being slightly burnt out (after going to class at least once a day for 2 weeks and doing art during every free moment when not in class...)

Met my friend Jeff who is OSSUM!! He's now a teacher of "Taiwan Studies" - a deliberately vague subject at this university. He teaches a graduate class of like 5 people. He also just got out of a 10-day meditation retreat, so we talked a lot about that, and a lot about things like signs/symbols. He told me that an old professor of his in Chicago, a literal genius who studied semiotics 'discovered' that symbols mean different things in different situations, and that they can't be divorced from their context. In fact, the context is "co-text" - impossible to differentiate from the symbol itself. So he calls it the co(n)text. This helped me with my "thing" about looking for signs. We talked while it was raining like crazy, and we took shelter at the university, in this long maybe 'colonnade' is the right word. The wing of a building, outside, with columns at intervals, or maybe more like arches. Yes, arches.

We also talked about meditation, concentrating on the physical sensation of your breathing, and trying not to analyze, but rather just sense. Later, while walking to the bus stop, I was able to do this a little, and I felt so EXCITED by all the stimuli around me, as opposed to normally being pissed off by all the noise and the cutesy bullshit and the crowds and the pollution.

THEN I got to oil class, didn't bring my painting from last week (not realizing we were going to continue painting it), and the only other person who showed up was the girl who was the model from last week, so we had no painting in common to work on, so the teacher gave us a photocopy of a painting to copy. For the first time EVER, I realized how to throw in all these different colours and still blend them into a coherent skin tone. It is by far the best portrait I have ever done, though it is not finished. Maybe a coincidence (?), but I also tried (when I remembered) to meditate while painting (also first time I have done this), watching my breath and painting slowly and deliberately. I call this "hua gong", which translates roughly into the "yoga of painting" or something. ("Gong" means a 'practice' I think in exactly the same way 'yoga' does.) We also listened almost exclusively to my favorite Taiwanese singer, early versions of songs that I know, but don't have these versions.

THEN, well, I went to the supermarket and bought stuff, nothing to report (except this lady butted in front of me and I totally didn't care - I kept thinking "I'm going to exist either way, so what does it matter"), then walked to the MRT station, and there were LOADS of people there, including a bunch (40, it turns out) of cheerleaders in costume. I walked to the turnstile at almost the same time as one cheerleader, who looked at me and gestured for me to go first, so I did and thanked her, then when I got to the platform, she came over to me and said "Where you from?", so I told her I was from Canada, and she said she wanted to go there, and we got to talking. She told me "I am from Kaohsiung. I am yuan ju min (aboriginal)", then asked 'Will my English jin bu (improve)?", and I told her that she is the most likely to improve because she is courageous enough to speak! Then all her friends came over and I asked them what event they had been to and it was a cheerleading contest and they may (or may not) have gotten first place - they could have been pulling my tail.... THEN they all wanted to take a photo with me and my beautiful new painting, then they had to run to get on the train.

(I forgot to mention that the girl asked me "Do you rape?" - meaning "rap" - and they started a beat going, so I launched into the rap part of 張震嶽's 沒路用的人, in Chinese. They totally ate it up!!!)

THEN I walked home, up this steep, steep hill, singing my favorite Dubliners songs (The Ragman's Ball and Tramps and Hawkers), and I had to refuse two rides, and I'm positive the little community bus was going to stop for me, except that there was a vehicle behind it, and it slowed down and started to pull over (the bus, that is), but I guess felt pressured from the vehicle behind it to keep going. I didn't mind; I didn't want a ride! I was enjoying my walk so thoroughly!! I was thinking how beautiful it is to walk, even to be poor, to have nothing. To walk not 'naked', but I guess 'unencumbered'.

Jeff told me the opposite of waste is elegance (I had said 'simplicity'; I think elegance is how simplicity embraces complexity), and that is somewhat the concept I have been looking for as a metaphor for my life. (Richard Schmid used the word 'decorous'.) For example, it would be more "complex" to have a bicycle than to only walk, but I think a bicycle is "elegant"!

Oh - got an email for an interview at the prestigious private school I wanted to teach at!!! They said I am I forget "perfect" or whatever, though it is teaching 6-year-olds, not high school students. BUT, I think it's 8:30-4:30, and MAYYYYYYYYYY have 2-3 months off per year. (Or maybe not.........) Anyway, I guess I'll go and talk to them. I'll need to buy some shoes! And I need to change the date they want to interview me, as it's the exact day I have to leave for Thailand.

OH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AND................I found a used copy of the Lonely Planet guide to Thailand - a book that normally costs $30 (the US price printed on it was $24.99) for $4!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So, Universe - THANK YOU!!!!!!!!!!!

Hope everyone enjoys a day as beautiful as mine. I can't describe how strange it is for me to feel "excited" by Taipei, and honestly "comfortable" and "at home"! This has never happened to me before!

Bless your day, bless you all every day!

Two oh, oh, Oh, OH!

2007-06-22T07:42:00.000+08:00

All right, this is cool enough that it merits its own blawg entry:

I WROTE MY FIRST SCREENPLAY!!!!

I have been participating in the ScriptFrenzy script-writing event, which is the play writing equivalent of NaNoWriMo (National Novel-Writing Month), which I participated in last November, though I didn't hit the 50,000-word mark due to stresses at school. This time, however, I hit

20,000 words!!

Now, this means that I have only scratched the surface, and I will need to do numerous rewrites, but I have achieved a major accomplishment!

Go, me!

full air ahead!

2007-05-14T05:40:00.001+08:00

I've discovered the absolute perfect Joy of plein air painting - that is, going outside somewhere to sit down and paint.

I will post my amazing masterpiece here once I fix it (some of the paint came into contact with the plastic bag - actually record sleeve - in which I was transporting it) and photograph it. I am immensely pleased with the results, and already have the next plein air painting date planned.

my earliest memories of art

2007-03-01T15:09:00.000+09:00

Here are a few of my earliest memories about art, randomly arranged according to how I recall them.

First off, I remember that we had Rembrandt's Girl with a Broom (which I liked and always thought looked like my mother) and Van Gogh's Sailboats (which I remember being somehow confused by, but liking the colours) in our basement. (I was often scared by the basement, but that's a whole 'nuther story.) I also recall a painting of a child running down a hallway in ripped pajamas, carrying his teddy bear behind him and the caption: "In the dark hall with a little bear behind".

In elementary school, I once made an "antique vase" from a bottle, masking tape, and shoe polish. My older sister had made a similar one the year before, so there were two in the house. One day, my mother told me, "I like your bottle better, but if you tell your sister that, I'll deny it." It made me feel shitty.

Also in elementary school, for some reason, I was hooked on clowns, wanted to go to "clown college" (is there such a thing?), and drew lots of clowns. I also decided that I drew horses well, and constantly drew those, too. I recall making a drawing by colouring with crayons on paper, then covering the colours with black, then scratching into the black. I remember that my wrist hurt like hell from colouring so damn hard, but I really liked the effect. I also once drew a card for my teacher, which turned out upside down by accident, so I added "Welcome to Upside Down World!" on the inside.

[This has nothing to do with art, exactly, but just shows how damn clever I am: once in Kindergarten, we had to make "something" and put our names on it, but I decided to put my name in code by substituting the appropriate number for each letter of my name, but it took so long to figure that out that I got yelled at for not moving along with the rest of the class to the next activity - which, whatever the hell it was, wasn't as super-smart as writing your damn name in numbers at age 5!!]

I recall twice wanting to do a very detailed drawing, and then just sitting down and doing it: once, when I was some indeterminate age younger than 13 (because I was still in New Jersey, and I moved when I was 13) I was with with my Dad at a flea market, and I decided to draw some stuff that I saw there. I remember sitting down for "a long time" (maybe an hour) and I remember working on a checkered tablecloth. I though I did a really good job, but I never got the urge to draw again until I was 20, in Corsica, sitting on the side of a mountain. I then decided I'd sketch what I saw in my journal. Assuming I can find it, I'll post it here.

Next, in Sixth Grade, I got out of I think science class with my best friend at the time, Neil Lamb, and we painted this dinosaur mural on this huge piece of paper. I remember thinking I painted awesome dinosaurs, though I was aware that for some reason the claws didn't seem to rest nicely on the ground. I had perspectival problems... I was in Special Art, though I don't know why, nor do I remember doing any particularly "special" art - apart from this mural. Oh yeah, and once I copied a poster of two runners after a race holding hands.

In Junior High School, I took an art class. The only thing I remember about it was a.) most guys doing Iron Maiden album covers, b.) I copied these postcards of bridges in Scotland in ink, and felt that I did a pretty good job, but was unhappy a copying somebody else's picture.

Last thing I recall before I actually studied art (and before I take a shower and go to bed) was painting these Australian Aboriginal-inspired designs on these pieces of wood that I had in my house. I was already obsessed with Aboriginal art, and for whatever reason, decided I'd paint (with my girlfriend-at-the-time) designs on these 3"x3"x9" ends of wood that I had.

Next time, maybe I'll list all the girlfriends I've ever had. I keep meaning to do that.

dog blog

2007-02-11T15:59:00.000+09:00

I love my dog so much!

He's such a cool kid.

His full name is Pei-Pei Gooddog Hamby.

This blog page is dedicated to him.

(He's still alive.)

Following are nicknames that I use for him:

Pei (almost not even a nickname)
P (I'd guess my #2 nickname for him)
L'il P (said with like an Alabaman accent; almost "liwl Puyee")
P-Dog (likely the #3 nickname)
P-Boy (not so much any more; makes me think of 'Playboy')
Peanut (probably my #1 nickname for him, after "Pei")
Peanut Butter
* Peanut Brittle (didn't really work out)
Little Nut
Dog
Dog-Boy (makes me think he's a super hero)
Dog Face
Dog Snout
Dog Rug (when he's stretched out on the floor)
Boy
Little Man
G (as in 'Gangsta')
L'il Gangsta
D.O.G. (as in "Da Old Gangsta")
* Tupei (either 'toupee' or I saw it as a reference to Tupoac Shakur; it didn't last really)
Fluffy Boy
Fluffer-Nutter (yes, it has happened)
Monkey
Little Monkey Boy
Monkey-Dog
Hound-Dog
Hound-Dog-Boy
Little Tail
Little Tail Boy
Little Ear Boy
Little Face
Little Cub
Little Grub
Little Bug
Little Prince (only when I'm carrying him downstairs to go to sleep, and not that often)
Frank (This one is hard to explain, but he gets this expression on his face, mouth sorta wonky, that makes me think that he looks like his name is 'Frank', if you can understand that at all....if you can't, I don't blame ya!)
Shelley (also takes a little explanation, but the long hair on his ears makes him look like a prissy aristocrat; coulda called him Little Lord Fontleroy, but 'Shelley' came to mind first)
Snout
Schnout (Germanic corruption of "snout"; didn't last long because it became the following:)
Snoot
Snout-Boy
Snoutsky
(Last night I called him Snorsky for the first time)
Little Muffin
Little Bread (after my Taiwanese girlfriend heard me call him "Muffin" and asked "Bread?")
Tail-Boy
Little Fur
Furry Kid
Fur-Boy
Hair-Boy
Little Softie (after a bath)
Cute Little Kid
Cutie Little Boy
Smart Little Kid (when he sits on the sidewalk before crossing the street)
Naughty Dog (when playing sock keep-away and he has the sock)
Naughty Little Boy
Naughty Kid
My Son
兒子 ("Son" in Chinese)
Numba Wahn Sahn (Hey - he's Chinese, and he's my #1 son.... Anyway, I don't really use it any more.)
Little Animal (sounds like a veterinary term, especially in Chinese)
小動物 ("Little Animal" in Chinese)
小 (sorta jokingly-condescendingly, as this is a typical nickname for white(ish) dogs, and the name of at least one cartoon dog)
小 "pei" (sounds like a girl's name; my girlfriend at the time hated that nickname)
北 ("Pei" in Chinese, which means "north" and is really pronounced "bei", like Beijing)
壞嘴巴 ("Naughty Mouth" in Chinese; this was Amy's invention)
小狗 ("Little Dog" in Chinese)
'gau ei gya' ("Newborn Puppy" in Taiwanese)
* "Pei-Per-View"
* "Pei-Per Mache" [* didn't really stick...]

I won't say "clowning around"...

2007-01-09T00:27:00.000+09:00

(OK...slightly different angle between the photo & the drawing, but it gets the point across.)

My mum asked me to draw this clown, which her father brought back for her from Belgium in 1946. It's one of those semi-hierloomy things around the house that has always been in my life. I've been thinking of doing a series of paintings of these things, like say, this clown, my Gigi Bear, some other things that have been in MY family since I was born (or at least conscious of the world).

Hm. I see that I could darken the shadows. Well, I'll either do it or not...

Anyway, the cool thing for ME in drawing this clown is that I didn't measure ANYTHING, I just sighted the entire thing. (The only thing that is slightly off-size is/are the hands.) Anyway, to say that I am damn pleased with my 1.5-hour effort is well, to be exactly right!

First day back in school. I've decided to skip my workout ONLY BECAUSE I have to bring so much stuff for drawing class (i.e.: fishing tackle box full of drawing implements) that I can't fit it all into the gym locker - and the box doesn't fit into my regular locker. AND since I've been working out regularly since Jan 02, including yesterday.

early drawings: cloth and wine glass, shell

2007-01-07T08:30:00.001+09:00

It's funny how I can waste a bunch of time doing absolutely nothing, somehow not even getting around to doing the art that I really DO enjoy doing, feeling down about life, the universe, and everything, and then other days, like today, I can feel so up and energetic and get a bunch of stuff done - or even feel like getting a bunch of stuff done. (I think the difference between those who achieve success and those who talk bullshit is actually knuckling down and getting shit done; I seem to tend more towards talking bullshit most of the time, unfortunately...)

Anyway, so I got it in my head today that it would be fun not only to practice some Chinese calligraphy (which I've already done), but to do a pencil drawing, a pen drawing, an ink painting, and a watercolour painting of this tiny totem pole statue that we have at home. (I don't think it was the coffee I drank; caffeine level is normal - though it could be the sexy Chinese girl who was working at Second Cup when I went there, and maybe the fact that I've decided to apply for a part-time job there, since it feels about the level of labour that I am up to performing for society right now.)

So where was I?

Anwyay, I was about to go off and do all this art, so scuse me.

I'll post some recent-ish drawings I've done below, and if Im really on the ball, or my time isn't totally taken up by doing these projects, then eating, then watching news, I'll try to post today's artworks here, too.

Painting of temple in Thailand

2006-10-25T11:07:00.002+08:00

Here's my painting of the interior of a temple in Thailand, bought by my wonderful classmate Sandy:

Oh yeah, that little bit at the bottom is actually part of my easel. I didn't photograph it straight on, so I couldn't crop it square.....

early abstract paintings

2006-09-09T11:11:00.001+08:00

This one I painted for Amy, my girlfriend in Taiwan. It's - can u tell? - the two of us. It's called "The Embrace". I forgot to tell her that! It took a long time to finalize cuz I finished it and gave it to her for her birthday (late!), but she asked me to re-do the eyes and I think the boobs, so I had to go back and touch it up, which I don't like to do, but what can ya do?

This one I gave to my good friends Tammy and Philip, who done many good things for me, and for well, the universe. It's oceanic, obviously, but I haven't come up with a title for it yet. It's painted over a failed painting, which gives it the kinda backgroundy feeling (ie: darker stuff that appears to be behind the jellyfish in the lower right-hand corner). I almost made the mistake of TOTALLY obscuring that stuff, until I realized it gave the painting a sense of depth. I'll have to keep that in mind if I *ever* fail another painting......

This is an updated version of one of the first paintings I did on canvas. (I added the dribbles and dots.) I gave this to my friend Peat who is/was the other half of The Taiphoon with me.

I bought a donkey!

2006-09-02T13:30:00.000+08:00

So I got an easel today, which a Dutch acquaintance told me, I was talking about getting this "easel", and he said "Did you know 'easel' is Dutch for donkey?", which I didn't know, but I DID know it's "Esel" in German, so, makes sense. Don't know how the Dutches spell it, though. I suspect not E-A-S-E-L, though maybe!

Anyway, so now I'm all set to start painting, which I haven't been able to do since I got back to The Canada. So I spent er, well, I don't know how long, painting a watercolour, which I kinda for no real reason want to put up here, but that's for tomorrow if it even happens....

Tonight, just before I go to bed - oh! and I got a lamp, too, very important for setting up still lifes, and it's the articulated kind that you can bend into any position, and it has a clamp, so I'm going to get a 2nd one for over the easel ("donkey") so I have all the light I need - so but anyway, before I go to bed, I had to listen to infatuation.com, the latest hit from my friend Shane The Hit-Maker. He should be famousser than I am, which, like, undoubtedly he actually already is. But you should know him. His music is that good!

So here's to my friend Shane, and his new CD, new band, new singer. I'm infatuated with the infatuation.com singer. And that tune is unbelievable. I can't believe somebody else didn't think of it, it's like the kind of tune you hear and like WHY DIDN'T I THINK OF THAT!?

Sorry I don't have his BFGF URL, but here's his other oorul: http://www.onetongun.com/
Hope it's cool that I put that up............

Nighty-night. Especially to you, infatuating Thai singer-woman!!!

«S2 art, whiter than the whitest!»

Early drawings from class in Taiwan, and first figure paintings

2006-07-21T15:59:00.003+08:00

Here's a pretty classical-style pencil drawing of a still life. Teach commented that the egg and plate with cherries area was "very comfortable to look at". That's a - actually - compliment.

Funny how dark the shadow on a white object can be, eh? Teach also said that I am ready to teach. Which is cool. When I first started, I couldn't believe, literally could not believe, that I could learn this stuff even as well as I already have. He said when he first started teaching, that he didn't draw as well as I do now.

Here's another academic-style still life in colourized pencils. (I call them that cuz my life is so boring I have to entertain myself as best I can, including the use of personal in-jokes that, upon inspection, aren't even funny.)

This is one of my first paintings done from sketches made in "life-drawing" class. I'm in total lust with the model, but less on that is more. As in 'more better'.

(It could actually do with a little more light tone, but I couldn't allow myself to keep screwing around with it.)

It took me a couple of late-night painting sessions to get this one completed. (I hung around the painting studio with my teacher, who is preparing for a show in December, and painting from 12:30 to like 6:00 every NIGHT, though I haven't overnighted nearly as much as he has. I've only gone a handful of times, but it is fun.... Cept I don't really like staying up that late....cept he suggested I ought to "go crazy" a little more, which, like, who am I to disagree?) When I first painted it, I got the legs too short and she looked a little dwarfy, but I fixed that afterwards. I mean, who the hell wants to look at a naked dwarf? Yetch!!!)

This isn't really as "arty" as it looks......It's the layout (done in regular pencil on a canvas) for an oil painting that I haven't started (partially cuz I think I drew it so damn well that I don't want to "ruin" it by painting over it).

I've also done this same pic in pastels, and it looks pretty decent, though as-yet not fully completed.

When I Will Die

2005-07-27T11:38:00.000+08:00

I just found out when I am going to die: Mar 26 2053! I feel pretty good about that!! Like it's not "Mar 26, 2012" or "Mar 26, 2024". I've got time. 17 thousand-plus days, in fact! And I'm going to make every one of them count!!!

And I just calculated that if I take aspirin and a multivitamin once a day, and go see my Mommy regularly, I'll add another 2 years on to that date! Whoo-hooo!!! I'm just screaming towards immortality! Also, I just reduced my stress level (I mean both literally and on the form), and added another 2 years to my life expectancy! Now let's see what happens if I move to Vancouver Island - ie: am not exposed to air pollution.....Three more years!!! (We're up to Mar 26, 2059, just FYI...) And finally, being more Optimistic (I said I was Normal) will add 2 more years: up to 2061. (That's assuming the Pentagon or North Korea can stop themselves from throwing a nuclear war party before then.)

So let's live it up for the next 20,000 days! I know I got plans!!!

Like, for the next say 700 days, I plan to do a lot of painting and study, and writing and music. That sounds like a lot of time to do what I gotta do!

20 thousand days!!! 20 thousand sunrises, 20 thousand sunsets. 20 thousand lunches, dinners.... Maybe I can make love 20 thousand times! I'd sure like to try! I've heard (from my married friends) that this "sex" stuff is quite exciting. I have always wanted to give it a try, but since I am not married, how could I possibly ever make the sexing?

Wow!

I feel Great! I just sold my remaining stock yesterday for a "decent" price (should I put that kind of information out over the Internet...?), and I have 20 thousand days to have sex!!! Sounds like my life is getting better - if also shorter - by the minute! I think it's distilling nicely, is what's happening. Like the funness is improving while the time is shortening, so each minute contains an increasing percentage of fun! It sure feels like that!

Oh Life, I love you so much!!!!

And I gots me another 20 thousand days - Guaranteed!

So, let's face a little responsibility here in this fantastic Life o' mine:

Well....so far, no garabage! So man, my life rocks!!!!!

OK, I did manage to produce some garbage today, half from cleaning up my desk for when I leave work:

2 pieces of tape
1 Barbie doll head. (Don't ask.)
plastic bisquit wrapper and plastic tray
peanut butter jar, which I will recycle
1 sheet of paper, minus one like inch-square piece I cut out

I guess it's impossible not to be sad when a loved one dies, but I would wish that my loved ones can live on powerfully after I am gone (in 2063 or later...). Like, remember me, but Live!!!!

So as I was getting out of the elevator just now, this woman got out whose face and body and arm were all scarred from what I guess was a fire or like a serious freebasing accident. Her mouth was kind of melted into a skullular grin and there were all like tendons and stuff showing, and her left hand, from what I could tell in the half-second I took her in, had no fingers. Yet, her left stump sported a jade bracelet, and she was dressed gaily, and she seemed to be going on, living her life, and it's your problem if you can't deal with her disfiguration - and man, I thought that she was courageous in a way I have never had to be! She didn't wear anything to disguise her condition - no veil, no long-sleeved shirt, no mask, no sunglasses and wide-brimmed sunhat that she could pull over her face. It was just, here's me and my burnt distorted face, I'm here for the IBM account, or whatever the hell she was doing. I mean, I sometimes think it's courageous of me to sing in public (when I bother to even reflect on that), but I don't know how I would act if I knew I was going to be an object of revulsion to everybody. I still have a fairly decent self-image.....

So what I mean by all that is, damn that is one courageous lady! I wish I hadn't felt my heart drop into my stomach when I looked at her, but I did...

I am trying not to let my stressometer register a positive reading, but I was just at B&Q to get a clasp for this briefcase I found whose clasps have now both broken off, and when I realized thatI was hearing the words "B&Q" (followed by what I thought was "Totally New", then "Totally You", and then I finally saw the Chinese: "特力屋", which seems to be missing a syllable so they stretch out the "特", so it sounds like some mule Chinese-English bastard-child pidgin) every half a minute or so over the loudspeakers, I did get a mild positive stress reading, though it dissolved when I thought about how I might die in 2056 instead of 2061 if I let things like that upset my perfect, balanced life. So I did my best to ignore it, even though I normally think that things like that, you should do something about instead of ignore. We are literally destroying ourselves mentally by that kind of repetitive advertising. Placing the message "B&Q 特力屋" in my head so that I can't get it out, so that I keep thinking it over and over again, hearing that crappy jingle over and over and over is a form of psychological assault, yet B&Q特力屋 are quite happy to damage us that way because it causes us to slip them pieces of paper printed by the government, never mind that it destroys our sanity and peace of mind. Same with all visual advertising, as well.

I was thinking that the definition of humanity might be "the sole species that creates a toxic environment for itself", though I realized that it is not all of humanity who does this - just the insane ones who are divorced from Nature. You might define Capitalist Society using that concept...

trashed my oil painting...

2005-07-20T18:21:00.001+08:00

Totally trashed my oil portrait this morning, though maybe in a good way. I'll have to let it settle and decide. But the proportions were annoyingly off, so I had to trash it either way. If I decide I hate it, I'll just paint over it, no big deal. Picasso did that!