A Painting, a Challenge & a Shadow Shot

6" x 6" acrylic on board, an outdoor scene, derived from a friend's photo

Six months ago, a friend e-mailed me his photo of an outdoor scene.  "You should paint this :)," he wrote.  That was all.  This sort of directive is not characteristic.

It turns out that he stood in that place, and was greatly moved.  It was more than the scene, it was the feel of the place.


I could understand that.  This has happened to me so many times.  I remember stretching my arms outward at the woods and sky around me, overcome.  And the birds:  being captivated by song piercing the fresh morning silence, then witnessing an Eastern meadowlark on a stump singing in a vast field;  watching slack-jawed as a young eagle carrying a fish endured the high-speed pursuit of an osprey, eventually yielding its prey; strolling under a tree branch, feeling odd, then turning to encounter the learned scrutiny of a great horned owl.  And so on.

All from stepping outside and looking.


Even a walk outside, well within the confines of the city, reveals the beauty of nature. Look close, and there are textures,  patterns, and shapes to experience everywhere, courtesy of nature:

And personality too (for Shadow Shot Sunday):

So I painted my friend's scene - my first painting of 2014.  It is a small painting.  I was inspired, as always, by Leslie Saeta's Thirty Paintings in 30 Days challenge even though, again, I figure I will not have time.  She recommends painting small to accomplish the aim.  But I fuss too much on each painting, and spend far too much time on my blog posts.  I may need to do 1" x 1", you know?


I HAVE NEWS:  For the new year, the joint blog with Raena, 2'nFro, has returned!!  We are sending our sketchbook back and forth between Miami and Boise, 2,829.6 miles (but who's counting?) and collaborating on each and every page.  I have a new post - please come visit if you have time! I'd love to see you there!

Between a Rock and a Hard Place (And a Healthy Dose of Art Philosophy and a Shadow Shot too!)

6" x 6" acrylic on board.  "A Dog's World" Click here to purchase.  $100.00

In "Comedians In Cars Getting Coffee", Seinfeld's online series, which is just about the Best Thing Ever ( I like the episode with Michael Richards), Seinfeld asks Chris Rock who it is that he likes, and Rock responds, "I admire people that have breakdowns.  Because once you have a breakdown, you can clear the slate."


Try as I might, I am incapable of having a breakdown.  I can metaphorically break a leg (see the last post) and put my blog into virtual paralysis, but between down periods and angry spells and  confusion, my mood eventually buoys like a beach ball in water.  And that, I suppose, is a good thing.  Despite the fact that I will never have the admiration of Chris Rock.

But there has been this kind of inadvertant virtual summer sabbatical.  The precipitating event is not the worst thing that has ever happened to me, not by a long shot, but it was indeed traumatic and had elements that have called into question perspectives that I have held for nearly half a century.  I am not the same.  I will not write about it directly.  But my soul has been stirred - even my feelings about art.  And I consider this blog to be a reflection of my soul.

From my moleskine this month.

Also in my moleskine - true, isn't it?

Despite the pause in blogging, I have continued painting.  I touched up an older painting, yet to be posted, and have almost completed another series painting.  I have wrestled with another wolf painting - and the wolf appears to be winning.  But I will continue to try to tame the beast. 


And during this virtual absence I decided to emulate the daily painters.  I painted six small acrylic paintings in quick daily succession.  The first, of a dog, is above.  I will post them all as this blog continues.

But all of that is beside the point.

I was pleased with the results of each of these works.  But in a way, surprisingly, I was dissatisfied as well with each and every one of them.  My springboard for these, as with virtually all I have painted before, has been "every day matters" - my fascination with all I see around me.  But I have begun to seriously question the premise.  I think painting what you see may not be enough.  To show the reality of the everyday I am thinking a painting may need to include what lies behind - the unseen.  And how do you depict that?  That is the question.


I am wondering whether this is what modern painters are attempting to show, an internal sense that there is more to the world than what is being observed.

A Shadow shot for "Shadow Shot Sunday" - it's been a long time..

Periodically there have been times - uplifting, invigorating, happy times - that seemed to be of high velocity, but that have come to a sudden, shocking halt.  A human life can be like that when it is tragically cut short.  In a poem I wrote after my daughter's short life and dramatic death, I likened the experience to a "roof unmoored by hurricane winds."  There are also times that the apparent surface events conceals the reality.  And sometimes we are fooled, and shocked when the reality is revealed.  And how do you depict that? 

My drive to draw and paint is as strong as ever, but what and how I paint in the future may change.  I have outlined for myself elements to include in future works, devices for showing the unseen in the observed, the hidden, the profundity, and I have an idea for paintings in this regard.  Will they work? Again, I don't know.  It is a hard place to be in.  And I may not have the skills to do it.

These are my thoughts for what they are worth.  Again, I don't want to be a talker, I want to do.  I am too much of a talker.  In art, my drive is to do.  But I want to share my thoughts, even with the risk that none of it may ever materialize.

Prologue  - [Sigh, I can't stop] but for me, this is the most interesting part:

After I wrote the above, and then saving the post for a week as a draft - wondering if all of the above was premature to say - I was mulling over painting ideas and noted that one image was awfully like a Magritte.  It made me wonder about the philosophy behind his works (beyond that of his famous painting of the pipe).  Lo and behold, when contrasting his art with the pop artist's "mistake" of painting "the world as it is", he contrasted their attention to the passing moment with his concern for portraying "the feeling for the real, insofar as it is permanent."

This led me to the photographer Duane Michals, who was influenced by Magritte.  You can see much of his work here.  In 1987 he gave a lecture which is here.  (It is funny that in that year, because it was recorded by cassette tape, only half of the talk was recorded because they forgot to turn the tape over!).  Key phrases, for me, from this talk are:

When looking at a picture:  "I don't want to know what I know.  I want to know what I don't know!"

"People are not what they seem."  And he said, and it's true, that one can't even know one's own parents.  [Recent events, for me, have called into question the entire premise of my "At First Glance" series.  Fortunately the series is aptly titled, because the idea of capturing someone's soul is a fool's errand.]

And, significantly:

"The most important things in life are invisible."

And how do you portray that?!

In Construction

Ink and watercolor in small moleskine

Construction.

I was attracted to the industriousness of the workers, the grays and yellows, and the geometry of it all.

Construction.

I sat across the street from the construction site in South Miami, sketched in ink in my moleskine, and then colored as much as I could in watercolor. Then I went back a few days later and finished painting. I was constructing as they were.

Mine is, of course, an illusion.

Construction.

One hundred and fifty years ago, none of the buildings I see around me existed. If I could return to that time, I would recognize nothing. One hundred-fifty years from now, with few if any exceptions, the same will be true. It will be a different place. I think about that sometimes.

The idea that their building is representative of the world around me is as much an illusion as my picture.

Ink & watercolor on 3" x 2-1/2"140 lb Fabriano Artistica hot press paper

I found a card I had cut from watercolor paper, smaller than an artist's trading card, only 3" x 2-1/2", and drew and painted another building just blocks away from the construction site. I had to draw quickly before - poof - it would disappear. Or before I would. Just kidding.

As an artist I am constantly thinking about construction: composition, value, shape, color, line. This blog has featured mostly ink and watercolors in my small moleskine. I am capable of detailed ink drawings, such as the one in my February 13th post. But I enjoy attempting to manipulate the watercolor for nuances of value, and so have refrained from doing other than outlines. I am getting restless though. Line filled with color - people see my moleskine drawings and say they are like a comics drawing. "They are not!" I say emphatically, even though I am interested in doing those too.

a quick idle sketch

a loose sketch from life

I sketch from life in much of my spare time, and sometimes from other sources. Some of the sketches I am finding most engaging these days are those done loosely and quickly. I will continue what I am doing as well, but I suspect there may be some experiments in style in the coming months.

And after a year of talking about it, I have finally bought a drafting table. It is in a large box. Now if I can manage to clear the space for my studio and create a good working area with the new table, my easel, and proper lighting before all the buildings around me disappear, then I have grand ambitions for a series of paintings on a large scale. How will it work? I don't know. I will need to reinvent what I do. I will need to learn more about how to do it. It's exciting..

on a receipt

In legal parlance, the word "construction" means "interpretation". And that is what I do. That is what we all do, whether artists or not. We take what we see and interpret to match our image of the world which is every bit as flawed and personal as we are.  Of course, that is what makes our creations so special and so unique. 

For this week's Shadow Shot, for Shadow Shot Sunday, I lay down the cones because there is work to be done. There are boxes to build and to break from. Bur most of all there are wings and floors to add. Why? So I can fly and still stay grounded, of course.

King of the Jungle

Stealth.

Ever aware, I lean forward on my steering wheel and I search. Barely breathing, I drive slowly - drifting through the early morning like a lion through the mist. I am a hunter. And there they are.

People, dining at breakfast.

I almost don't stop - it's too much like what I always sketch when I am in restaurants. But the scene appeals to a hunger in me - the cafe' - the umbrellas, some open and some closed, with their interesting colors and shapes; the palm trees; and the early morning diners. So I park facing the restaurant. I pull out my Lamy Safari and I sketch. Then I grab my paints and paint almost everything on site. I am there for some time, motor sometimes running, sometimes not. I listen to the radio. I daydream..

Why is he there, parked in that car? Why is this man viewing the patrons in my restaurant? He looks like he is up to no good. Maybe I should walk over to him and tell him he is not welcome here, that he is alarming the customers. Then again, maybe I should call the police. The officer comes. I pull out my sketchbook, and show him my partially painted sketch. He narrows his eyes and looks at my license. He shakes his head. Step out of the car, he says. I hear him as he radios Homeland Security..

The restaurant gradually fills with customers. But nobody notices me. It is as though I am invisible. I finish painting and quietly slip away. I am satiated. I lick my whiskers and roar with delight.

And this is something else altogether. It's in what I've decided is my unlucky sketchbook - something almost always goes wrong here, if not the drawing, the painting. It is not a moleskine. It is a beautiful nicely-bound Strathmore sketchbook. I have decided I do not like the paper, and may not use it anymore.

I work hard on my coloring, trying to add gradations of value, especially in skin. Have you ever heard that a touch of green in the face will give a man a fine five-o'clock shadow? Poor woman. Unlucky. Another victim of my stealth. So quiet even I didn't even see it happen, until it was too late. But I am pleased with the sketch, so I include it for your pleasure.

Now pardon me while I lay down, stretch ever so slowly, and yawn a big toothy yawn.

But before I sleep I'll swiftly swipe with my claw and capture an image for Shadow Shot Sunday - because snatching images - that's what artists do.

Painterly and Sketcherly and Shadowly (Sort of)

I felt "painterly" today (when don't I?). I caught Terry Madden on public television effortlessly laying down color after color with watercolors so that they would bleed into one another. It made me want to do it. So I pulled out a small sketch that I had done at the Miami Book Fair International last November and let the watercolors flow. I love how watercolors create patterns that I never could have planned.

This was done on 5" x 7" watercolor sheet that easily slips into the small carrying case that I use for on-site sketching. I should really use them more in the field - the size is better than Moleskine size, and I can choose whatever paper I want.

At the trip to Central Florida last month, I sat in the back seat as we drove up A-1-A through Cocoa Beach. I sketched snippets of what I saw along the way just for fun. The middle house is a composite, and, okay, I made up the boat and the water and the bird. I could start a new trend with this size: 7" x 1" - like a bookmark only skinnier. "Waste not, want not," right?


This week, for Shadow Shot Sunday, I cheat and provide a reflection. In justification of the shot, I refer you to dictionary.com here, and definition no. 9 of "shadow" which is "a reflected image". Hah!

Playing with the Dog, Playing with Shapes, Just Playing..

I had another 2-1/2" x 3-1/2" size sheet of Fabriano Artistico 140 lb. hard press paper and couldn't leave it blank. So I drew and painted a dog at play.

I loved exploring all the different values in this one. It was extraordinarily satisfying to do. A lot of joy in a small space.

This sketch is derived from a photograph at Morguefile that you can find here.











For Shadow Shot Sunday, I contribute a picnic table. I thought the circular shapes and shadows were interesting.



And because it has similar shapes, I throw in this photo. There is always construction here in Miami, whether we need it or not.

Diving Right In (Ripple and Shadow Shot Sunday)

The heartbreak of the Gulf oil gusher: as many as 2.5 million gallons per day rush into the Gulf in a giant plume. Four hundred wildlife species are threatened, to say nothing of the economic damage and harm to our coasts. The largest oil spill in United States history does not cease. It spills and spills and spills. Since April 20th, from 67 million to 127 million gallons have spilled. It is difficult to imagine such numbers.

But it is easy to imagine a brown pelican in the paradise of the blue sky diving unwittingly towards the spill.

At Ripple, artists are invited to portray a subject that "should pertain somehow to the Gulf - the oil spill - the oceans and the creatures that live in it and around it." According to Kelly Light, "It's about not feeling helpless in the face of an overwhelming disaster. We're illustrators. We don't lose touch with that kid inside who marvels at the creatures who swim below and fly above the sea. We draw them. We are inspired by them. We need to help them."

Her request is that the artist create "a small 2.5" x 3.5" sketchcard. The cards can be submitted to ripplesketches@verizon.net as a jpeg along with your links and a few sentences about you (ie: where you live, etc). .. These will be made available for a small donation of $10.00 to either The Institute for Marine Mammal Studies (http://www.imms.org/) or The International Bird Rescue Research Center (http://www.ibrrc.org/). .. Every penny will go. When the cards sell, we ask for a donation confirmation and you will be asked to sign the back with a thank you. Then mail them to the address you are sent."

Kelly says that "we may be too small as individuals to do some grand gesture- but together our small gestures can be grand."

I am privileged to have found a beautiful photograph at flickr upon which to base my card. The photo is by Ingrid Taylar whose inspired photographs of wildlife and nature can also be found at her website, The Free Quark. I call my contribution, "Last Dive".

I've recently purchased a few books on drawing hands. I'd like to be able to form hands in many different positions, almost without thought. These sketches of the back of the hand are copied from The Book of a Hundred Hands by George B. Bridgman, a book originally published in 1920. The other book I purchased is Drawing Dynamic Hands by Burne Hogarth, first published almost 60 years after the first. I am only just beginning this study, and as I progress I will give you my thoughts on the usefulness of the books.

One day I carried the wrong Moleskine with me - my other Moleskine, the one with the thick yellow paper that can only be drawn in and that will not take watercolors. As with most errors in art, this was fortuitous. It had been some time since I'd sketched a person without anticipating the watercolor later. I tend to minimize the inking when I know I am going to color (although judging from Raena's recent amazing colored sketch of a turtle, this thinking may be wrong). I saw a man with a very interesting face, and drew with much more detail than I would have done otherwise, just like the old days. I really do love bare pen and ink.

Finally, I contribute a shadow shot for Shadow Shot Sunday. I was struck by these odd bushes with their elongated shadows. I like taking photographs as exercises in composition, and had an interesting time with this one. I had considered cropping lower on the trees to emphasize the foreground. But ultimately I decided that a relatively equal field of blue above the trees, and green below the bushes was the most visually pleasing view.













Well, that's got to be three serious posts in a row, I think - this blog is going to lose it's reputation for mindless frivolity. I hope to correct that in the next post.

UPDATE: The Ripple sketch sold..

P's and Q's and Z's and SSS's

Another fun afternoon at the mall. Hey, now, I am telling the truth! I sent my wife away to the stores (poor thing), and I sat in a bench much like the ones you see here, and sketched away! When she came to collect me, I was still sketching, happy as a shopper! Happier even.

Today we went to Parrot Jungle Island, and I sketched the closest thing to a journal page that I have ever done. These sketches are from the shows we went to. So, one at a time, they would bring out the animals, and I would sketch. The animals would move; the trainers would move around. No big deal. It was just like the mall.


So I began thinking the other day for no apparent reason about the letter "q". This is true. Now, if you are wondering why anyone would think about the letter "q", ask yourself first why you would visit the blog of a person that would think about the letter "q".

See? There is plenty of blame to go around.

The thoughts came like this: I tried to remember what letter came before "q" - and I couldn't. I couldn't work backwards from "q". So I worked my way forward. It was "p".

My next thought was that "p" was such a lowbrow letter, makes you think of things like, well, bodily functions, and "q" was so highbrow, with its curly cue and all, that they don't really belong together. Or that maybe the alphabet is the most egalitarian of all groupings.

Anyway, I read the other day that people are controlled all their lives by their experiences as children - from their self-perception, to their choice of spouse and career, etc. This is probably true for me. But, even worse, I realized that I could not remember what letter came before "q" because "p" belonged to "l-m-n-o-p" and "q" belonged to "q-r-s", you know..in the song. The alphabet song.

And maybe the alphabet is not so dispassionate after all, because "p" and "q" appear to belong to different clubs. Same song, different clubs. Just like the rest of us.

Are you still with me?

Because the real reason I am talking about letters is because of a post you may have read here on this blog, when I rambled on about the respect given to Zbigniew Brzezinski, and how throwing some z's in my name might make all the difference. Then, in my last post, came DZAN's cartoon dedicated to PAMO. Now, suddenly, to read PAMO's newest post, DZAN - my creation, who has a "Z" in his name, which I do not - is suddenly responsible for "pure art genius", and is famous, and has a cartoon dedicated to him by PAMO. So visit PAMO's blog to see.

Meanwhile, "Z"-less, I will plod along like the snail with this remarkable trail that I saw this week while I was jogging. This is my Shadow Shot of the week (for Shadow Shot Sunday). And, yes, I am aware that I created this shadow shot with my own shadow. Some may consider that cheating. Others might simply call it "pure art genius".

Fish Meets Girls, DZAN meets PAMO, & SSS...

I sketched these ladies at yet another restaurant, and showed them to Tough Critic No. 1, and Tough Critic No. 2.

Tough Critic number 1 said that I can't possibly post this picture, because the lady on the left looks just terrible. Most bothersome, she said, is the little curve I made on the poor woman's upper lip which she referred to as a Salvador Dali mustache.

She suggested a solution that I used some posts back, here at this post, i.e., the bag over the head. She also said that I had other alternatives as well: (1) I could turn her into a tree - some restaurants do have trees, you know, or (2) I could cut her out of the picture.

Tough Critic number 2, said that the picture looked fine, except for the lady on the left because she doesn't look right and has evil glasses. Most significantly, she looks like a parrotfish. For your convenience, I include the picture of a parrotfish, so that you can compare and decide for yourself.

I like and appreciate my Tough Critics, I learn from my Tough Critics, and sometimes I avoid embarrassing mistakes because of my Tough Critics. But I am posting this picture nonetheless. First, I am kind of proud of this sketch. The woman on the left kept moving her head, and that's the trouble in the field. Her Dali mustache was going to be a nostril! And it's waterproof ink, so what can I do? But I like the drawing overall, and am pleased with the composition. And maybe I'm losing it, but I don't think she's all that bad - prune-like sure, homely, shriveled, crabby yes - but I've seen folks like her. Maybe she's someone I wouldn't want to spend time with, but she's welcome in my sketch.

I also had fun with colors. I used different paints to achieve skin tones with each face. Now I'm forgetting (I should write these things down!), but I think it's something like this. From the right, on the first I used rose madder genuine and new gamboge, for the middle gal I used raw sienna and burnt sienna, and for the hag I used yellow ochre and permanent magenta. To all of them I added the smallest touch of french ultramarine or cobalt blue. It is amazing how like our arteries and veins a touch of blue makes the skin seem real. And finally, I used the cadmium red throughout very lightly as highlights to unify the picture.

Many of you who read this blog know PAMO (otherwise known as Pam Huggins). She does wonderful cartoons and videos, often pairing the videos with the cartoons. She is very creative, but, well..if she were in the 19th century she'd take a knife to all her canvases, so she could move on. In the 21st, she blew up her blog, to my horror, and ever since she's been floating like a ghost from blog to blog, blogless, and I, like many others have felt the absence.

So I am thrilled to learn that PAMO IS BACK! She has a beautiful web page where she has put all of her work including my favorites Champ the Chair, and Yard Shoes, with the famous Walking Video. The website is here.

I've been thinking of doing what follows for a long time, because DZAN, you know, has an extra letter, just like PAMO, and this is the perfect occasion. (And Pamo gave me permission once to do a cartoon - remember Pamo?). Dzan attempts to imitate Pamo's style. So Pamo, remember, imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. If you don't like this, blame Dzan, not me. If you like it, you can have it if you want - I'd be pleased to send it to you. And this was loads - and I mean loads - of fun to do. I see why you do them!

DZAN MEETS PAMO.



Finally, it has been so long since I provided a shadow shot for Shadow Shot Sunday. April and May have been crazy. I am hoping to have more time for creativity in the summer months. So here is my contribution for this Sunday:



And that's all for now..



[The photograph of the male Bicolor Parrotfish above (do you believe he's male with that lipstick?!!) is a portion of the photograph by Richard Ling taken at North Horn, Osprey Reef, Australia on August 8, 2005].

Getting a Few Z's (And 3 S's on Shadow Shot Sunday)

Jasper Johns is, of course, a famous artist. And at one point, he says, he made a decision to "stop becoming an artist and actually be one". At this point in my journey, that quote is meaningful to me.

The first anniversary of my blog just passed, on March 15th. And this past year in the blogosphere has been wonderful, thanks to all of you. I never imagined that such meaningful connections could be made over the internet, and that I could learn so much from so many. It has accelerated my progress in art and given me much joy. Thank you so much for that.

And the journey continues. I am not sure of the placement of the line between becoming and being. A student, of course, is always learning, but a dynamic artist is learning as well. When does one stop becoming, and start being an artist? What do you think?

One wonderful thing that I am doing now is creating a good working space in my home for the creation of art. Yes, that's right - a studio. I had planned to have this done by the end of this month, but the end of April is more realistic. And that will be good.

I watch "Morning Joe", the news program on MS-NBC with Joe and Mika. Sometimes, Mika's father, the former United States National Security Advisor under Jimmy Carter appears as a guest.

Everyone treats him with great deference. His name is Zbigniew Brzezinski.

He has gravitas. Besides having a wonderfully learned accent, he has z's all over his name and in odd places. This adds to has stature.

Correct me if I am wrong, but I think having z's scattered throughout your name creates a great advantage for anyone in any field, not just political science, but also literature, and the arts. Having that final letter appear somewhere in your name can create all of the difference between respect and oblivion.

I believe, then, that to be rather than become, it would jump start the entire affair if I simply change my name from Dan Kent, to Dzan Kzenski.

I would say, "I AM DZAN KZENSKI. I AM AN ARTIST."

Gravitas.

Of course my name wouldn't be unpronounceable, like the name of Zbigniew Brzezinski or the name of God, for example, but that would keep my feet on the ground.

Zbigniew Brzezinski also has three z's. I would have only two. I would be important and humble - the best of both worlds.

There is zen in Kzenski.

I am not, of course, Dzan Kzenski. I am merely Dan Kent. But it helps that Ramona has awarded me a Kreativ Blogger award, and I thank her for that. There are certain obligations that come with the award that I will fulfill in another post.

In the above drawing, I drew the family eating dinner at one restaurant, the surroundings at another, and the trees at a third. The above picture was a painting adventure for me, and I believe I have managed to smooth some bumps in the road, while creating a few others. That is learning, I guess.

If I can't get a few z's, I can at least have three S's. For Shadow Shot Sunday, I contribute the following:







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A somber note and message: On the Everyday Matter Posts, it was announced that Danny Gregory, the creator of Everyday Matters, who has greatly enriched so many lives including mine, has tragically lost his wife, Patti.

To Danny: I feel for you and your son, and wish you solace in the wake of this tragic loss. You have spread the gift of joy, wonder and hope to so many, myself included. I hope that each of us can convey just a bit of that back to you, to help you through these difficult times, so that you can know that the thoughts and best wishes of the entire Everyday Matters Group are with you and your family.

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Reasons Not to Post

Today is February 27th, and this is the longest gap between posts that I can remember. So, I'll follow it up with the longest post ever (in three parts) to overcome my posting withdrawal (and hopefully yours).

Then again, you can skip to Parts II and III - they're shorter, and fun. Or you can just look at the pictures. There are three - two drawings and one photo - around and beyond all those darn words.

PART I. THE PLANKTON SWALLOWED THE WHALE.



Despite the gap in posting, I haven't stopped drawing and painting. And my hunger to do art still exists. In fact, I am famished. This time, though, the meal was me.

Raena said recently that she is following my advice of a long time ago: quantity, not quality. But that's not the whole of the advice, exactly. At least I don't think so.

I told her of an anecdote in a great book, "Art & Fear", by David Bayles and Ted Orland, about a ceramics teacher that divided his class into two groups. One group was to be graded on the quantity of their work, and the other on the quality. On the last day of class he would weigh all of the pots of the quantity group to determine the grade. The quality group would only have to produce "one pot - albeit a perfect one - to get an 'A'."

Who made the best pots? The quantity group. They were learning from their mistakes each time, whereas the quality group, as the authors described it, "had little more to show for their efforts than grandiose theories and a pile of dead clay."

[If you're tingling with excitement right now because you love discussions like this, visit Katharine Cartwright's blog, who dishes this out virtually every day.]

So I, like Raena, have been following this example. I draw or paint in every spare moment. I have many things going. As Wil says, "when I'm sitting I'm drawing." But I don't believe that quality is ever far from any of our minds. I, for one, would like for each drawing or painting to be a masterpiece, but of course it won't be. And I'd like a nice easy upward linear transition to excellence, and it's not like that either.

I don't think the "quantity" potters would have learned from their mistakes if they were not also concerned with quality, do you?

I drew the above band in my new Moleskine at the Coconut Grove Arts Festival on a beautiful day a few weekends ago (my apologies to Diahn who's been weather-oppressed). I drew in pencil for a change. It was great fun. At one point a gentleman, who was videoing the event, panned his camera over my drawing. What a hoot!

Then came the painting. I worked in layers of light washes, building up the musicians, but the paper seemed to suck up each layer and seep the life right out of them. I even compared the book to my old Moleskine to see if the paper was the same. It was. I have no idea why the painting remained so light with successive washes. My color choices, perhaps. Maybe the colors were too diluted.

This was just a Moleskine page. One 3" x 5" page. But I was obsessed with getting it right. It was as though the plankton had swallowed the whale. I was going to finish.

Then I painted the vegetation in the sign behind them. Suddenly the color of the sign was so strong that it overpowered the musicians. So I had to dampen it back with a wet cotton ball and with some lifting with a brush, which, to my relief, worked. But then, of course, the page was insipid again.

This picture remained in its gangly adolescence during virtually the whole process. Finally when I began doing the boxes and shapes in the back, I was able to play a little with color and shapes - almost creating an abstract - and the little picture seemed to come together.

Then I went to scan it. And the scan changed the colors a bit (as they tend to do). And made the picture a bit more lively. The value contrasts were better. I liked the scan better than my art! And I began to think, I can change that, and I felt myself being sucked in once again. But then this post would never have been done, would it? So I'll probably try another time.

PART II. I AM A VULNERABLE GOD.



Sometimes art is frustrating, but that's okay. Because on the page, I am a god, though in an ancient Roman or Greek sense, I think - all-powerful, though vulnerable.

At the art festival, I drew this old guy in pencil. He was stretched out on the lawn in an odd position, reading the paper. He didn't look to comfortable to me, but eminently drawable. And he had a backpack at his feet, like a 20-year-old.

I painted him in drybrush. As I understand it, drybrush is done by thoroughly covering the brush with watercolor, and then squeezing the water out. This is my first attempt. It seems that with more pigment and less water, the colors are more vivid. Also it seems good for detail work. I think it would work well for details over watercolor washes as well.

Then I decided to paint a loose wash around him: the green grass below, and the blue sky above. Both washes came out fine, but I did not like the way I had shaped the curve of the sky above. I couldn't post that. But, of course, I am a god. So I made the sky into mountains. But the mountains also displeased me. I didn't want to post them. So I turned the mountains into a wall. And had to add a window. More delay, but that's okay. I am a god. On paper, anyway.

PART III. FRUSTRATION

If you are ever frustrated with your art this is what you can do: grab a square of toilet paper, and then draw on it - maybe the view from above of a person diving, or a fish, or something else suitable - and toss it in the toilet bowl just so, and then flush. This is - take my word for it - great fun.

Or you can just take a shadow shot, for Shadow Shot Sunday: