Excuses for not posting (and Moleskine sketches)

Excuse #1:  I have a new home studio!  Yes, finally, and in time for the new year.  Figuring out how to arrange it has been difficult.  

First the drafting table was facing west with the easel facing northeast.  

Then the drafting table was facing east, with the easel facing, well, northeast.  No one in the family liked that one.  

Then the drafting table was facing southeast with the easel facing northeast.  My wife hated that one!  It was visceral.  

Finally, as of last night, the drafting table is facing south towards the easel that is facing northeast!  Voila!!  Feng Shui!  Nirvana!  

There.  That’s done.  Where are the brushes?

Excuse #2:  For my new space I ordered a new computer.  (My wife has suddenly become awfully possessive about the one we shared.)  So the computer arrived and I plugged it in but it fell asleep and never woke up. 

Several calls to 24-hour customer support and there was nothing left to do but to return the lazy box back to the online dealer.  Fingers tapping.

Excuse #3:  The dealer told me (well, chatted to me) that I had to replace the laggard with the exact same computer.  They’re kidding, right?   No.  

Didn’t you read the fine print in the ad? they asked.  Well..no.

Squint – “ah, yes, there it is,” I acknowledged.  

Painters should always squint, I am told, that way you can determine the actual value of a thing.  

So true. 

Then when it finally arrived, I plugged in the new computer, turned it on, and the monitor stayed completely dark!

So I called them with my paw pointed forward, my painter’s eyes squinted, my teeth bared and my tail upright, ready for attack.  When I found out that it was all because I plugged both the blue cord and the white cord into the monitor and - shouldn’t I have known that I had to choose one or the other? - I slunk/slinked/slank away with my tail between my legs.  

They said something like this:  You choose the blue cord, the story ends, you wake up in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe. You choose the white cord, you stay in Wonderland, and I show you how deep the rabbit hole goes.  

For the record, I chose the white cord.

Now the computer purrs like a kitten and follows every white rabbit down its hole.  Really.

Excuse #4:  So then was time to install all the stuff I need on the computer:  the browser, the bookmarks, the pictures to paint.  Not quite done with that yet.  I haven’t installed Photoshop (and the version I have may be too old for this computer).  My  scanner is hooked to the other computer, and my wife is standing there like a mamma bear at the mouth of her cave.  What do do?

Excuse #5:  I bought a new lamp for my drafting table but still need to buy the day bulb.  It’s dark in here.  Hey, do you notice that once you start buying cool studio stuff, it’s hard to stop?   My needs grow by the day.  Shoulda chosen the blue cord.

So there you are.  Five good reasons for not posting.  There are more, but I don’t want to disturb you more than necessary.

I am ready to leave the dark year of 2012 behind:  to carry the losses in my heart and mind, but move forward as well, beyond the barrier of the new year.  I am poised in my studio, ready for action.  Brush in one hand, pen in the other.  Both held upright as though ready for a meal.  And I’m famished. 

Thinking about it, there's something else customer service said to me: 

I'm trying to free your mind, Dzan. But I can only show you the door. You're the one that has to walk through it.

So true.

And how about you?  Are you ready for the new year?

Gobble, Gobble

Ink and watercolor of Mexican Restaurant in large moleskine
(Double-click for clearer image)

Yes it's turkey for breakfast,
And, well, turkey for lunch. 
And it's turkey for dinner ..

See, I've got a hunch
That although turkey is good on Thanksgiving day,
And though the day after (the next), I can
Say the bird's best - 
That I'd rather have Mexican
On all of the rest.

And how about you -
Do you feel the same?
Do you now feel that turkey is
Your middle name? Do you now feel
That turkey is the food that we eat,
That your belly's expanding as you sit on your seat
And eat turkey each hour because that's how you feel -
That if you are what you eat, then you'll be next year's meal?

If you feel that way,
Then gobble with me,
And watch out for knives,
And for Black Friday deals.
And waddle away to a place that is safe,
And watch what you eat in upcoming meals,
Because maybe, just maybe, if it's
Junk you consume, like hot dogs and
Hamburgers, pizza, and fries,
You'll reach next Thanksgiving,
And next year survive.

At First Glance #2

5" x 7" ink and watercolor on Fabriano Artistico rough paper

Your momma was right.  You are special.

In one nicely written web article that you can see here, a Mr. O. Hooge (how I love that name), of British Columbia, Canada, said that if you go back 10 generations, following the father's line only without even taking momma or all sorts of various deaths of potential ancestors into account, the chance that you exist at all is at most 1 in 6 x 10¹⁰⁰.

He then shows you the zeros, which is a nice touch:

1 in 6000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000.

Wow.


In a Huffington Post blog post which you can see here:
Dr. Ali Binazir says..
that Mel Robbins, a self-help author, states..
that scientists say..
that your chance of being born is about 1 in 400 trillion!!
Maybe those scientists are taking all those factors into account that Mr. Hooge set aside.  I don't know.

But according to the scientists, you, dearie, are 1 in 400 trillion!!

No room for the zeros here.  Sorry.

You can look at this another way. If you were a rabbit, you'd probably only be 1 in 1000.  If you were an ant, you'd probably only be 1 in 100.  If you were a grain of sand, you'd probably just be 1 in 2. Well, thinking about it, a grain of sand isn't born.  My numbers.  Sorry, Mr. Hooge.

So you are lucky to be here!

And that is the reason for my "At First Glance" series.  It's my attraction to the uniqueness of each and every individual out there (and that, of course, includes you).


When I was at one of the attractions here in South Florida, I pretended to snap a picture of a building, but I was really taking it of the crowd.  Sneaky.  And the girl at the top of this post was among them.  This is my second drawing for the "At First Glance" series.  Each are on a white field and drawn freehand in pen in a kind of  "sketchy" style, as though on site, then colored in watercolor.  The first in the series is here.

I suppose it is the uniqueness of folks that attracts me when I am out and about, sketching, too.  My small moleskine is always in my back pocket; my pens, always in the front.


Here are a few of my sketches from life.. 

Here's a couple I sketched at a restaurant at breakfast.  There is something about the whole feel of this that I like - I wonder if it would make a good painting?  I did something different this time.  I painted everything in the same color underneath, quinadrone gold.  Each color - not yellow - that you see is a result of glazes on top.

ink and watercolor in a small moleskine

Below is a girl I saw a few booths over.  Each time I sketch is a challenge - I am always wondering if it will come out all right.  Sometimes it makes it hard to make the first mark, the concern of it.  But I must always make the first mark.

Sketches are always interesting, because I learn something each time.  This time I gave her a shnoz.  I would probably do it differently next time I draw someone at that angle.  And that is the key to progress.

ink and watercolor in a small moleskine

Here is the local pharmacist, drawn while standing in line to pick up a prescription.

I showed my family this one, and they all said it was a perfect likeness!  I like that!

ink and watercolor in a small moleskine

So look in a mirror today.  No matter whether you straighten your hair, polish your bald head, smile at what you see, or recoil in horror, remember your uniqueness.

Then do something with it!

***

PS - The experiment with the SKB SB-1000 pen bore fruit.  The pen marks faded by half in the sun.

Captain Elaine, whose blog is here, said in her comment to my post, that there are always two issues - not only do you have to worry about the sun (UV resistence), but the ink, if it's not archival, may fade on it's own in the dark! 

I once spoke to an aging artist who, with a sad wistfulness, said that all his old sketches were fading.  I enjoy the line, the feel, of the SKB pen.  I'm not sure I'm done with this pen, but that's probably enough.  When I use it, I'm beginning to feel like I do when I eat something that's bad for me.  I've gotten rid of two fugitive paints from my palette, so it seems reasonable to abandon this pen as well.

So I've picked up the Pigma Micron again.  And I'm getting used to it..

At the North Pole

Ink and watercolor in large moleskine

I am standing at the North Pole of art-making, and my compass is spinning out of control in each and every direction.

But, just as they say each December, it is magical here.

Which way to turn?  I have been exploring traditional watercolors because I want to understand the medium and hone my skills, and that is good.

I have also drilled a hole into the ice, and placed one big toe into the world of acrylics.  And I like it, although my toe is blue.

Then there is the world of ink and watercolors.  I sketch almost everywhere I go (though not each time) and my obsession, as always, is people.  The above sketch was made on a glorious day at the opening ceremonies of my nephew's little league.  I had the luxury of time to sit and sketch - a wonderful stretch of time.

Then there is my small moleskine filled from cover to cover with many more modest sketches.

I lost interest in coloring my ink drawings with watercolor.  Competely and utterly.  My compass had turned the other way.  So all of it has been left uncolored.

dip pen and brush with ink

Until now.  The needle has turned.  So I finished coloring the above drawing last week and more will come.

I also have the idea for a series of ink and watercolor figures.  The first is done, and you will see it soon.

And my exploration of both watercolor and acrylic is continuing.

The needle points other ways too.  I did this drawing of a girl from a photograph as a kind of experiment, using a pen dipped in a bottle of ink, and, for the hair, brush and ink.  I love the line I get from the dip pen - and brush and ink is a wonderful.  The possibilities are endless, I think.

Now, pardon me, my helpers have arrived - all of the muses that help me make my toys, these pictures, are leading me away with their little hands...

Return of the Floating Heads

Yeah, yeah.  You may have your glistening, crystalline, fairy tale snow.  You may have your mountains, and your quaint villages, and your farmhouses and fields. You may have your hills, and your wild animals and your enormous trees and your citiscapes.

Yeah, you may have all of these and more.

But I have something that you don't have.

I have the motley Miami bunch, and they are an inexhaustible resource.

These four characters came from one wait at the tire place, and are on a single page of my moleskine.  Proceeding clockwise from the top - the old man who really should have been drawn with a hand to his face because it kept migrating to his chin, keeping it covered half the time; the cheerful and friendly manager who clapped every customer on the back and passed out Cuban coffee - his skin was a shade dark with a greenish tinge (I swear); the gumby-shaped man with the elongated neck who looked something like Jeff Goldblum after he became "The Fly", and the ruddy-faced skipper, marooned no more.

And that's just one sitting.

Shortly after I started this blog, I began drawing what I call my "floating heads", the faces of folks that I have seen out and about.  I was a bit amazed that I could draw people in public with impunity - they were either too involved in their lives to notice, or too embarrassed to say anything about it.  Even now, it is my "default", what I do when I just want to relax.

Only once was I called out.  A lady, loudly so I could hear, said to her daughter, "look, dear, that man is drawing me."  If the sketch had been any good I might have walked right up to her, and shown her what I had done.  As it was I probably blushed and turned the page to conceal the evidence.  It was a particularly spectacular failure of a drawing.  Of course, now it'd be different since every drawing I do is perfect. (Ri-ight.)

This little incident kept me from sketching in public for a few weeks, but then I was back at it.  You can't keep an addict from his fix.

I've heard tale that some artists notify people before sketching them, and ask for permission.  I am not so bold.  Or so polite.  Or something.  I'm from Miami. That should explain it.


I've learned some tricks.  I look for evidence to see how long they've been there, and how long they'll stay.  I look for busy people, or people involved in conversations.  I most like to draw folks that are not directly in front of me, but at an angle - there is less chance they'll notice, and the drawing is more interesting than a side or frontal view anyway.

The young girl above was a bit of an experiment for me.  She is a much larger Floating Head than virtually all I have done in my Moleskines.  I enjoyed the chance for detail in the hair, and the watercolor seemed to swish more than usual in her blouse.  Swiiish!  Or that might be an illusion.   (Of course here I had a man looking on while I painted, giving me a sly knowing glance - looking at my drawing and then looking at her.  I love an audience, a co-conspirator).

This woman was particularly fun to draw. The big shame is that she was talking to a gnarly looking guy and the two together would have been just great. I ate first - that's what wasted my time - they were deep in conversation the whole time. Sometimes my hands resist getting started. Always make the first mark, then you have to go further.  That's a great rule I often ignore.

Do you know I never - and I mean never - have seen anyone else in Miami sketching people in public? I went to Art Basel last week, and saw a man staring towards a group of people and drawing in a small moleskine. I was ecstatic! I casually strolled behind him. He was sketching a potted plant. And I suspect he was from out of town.

Art Basel is an annual experience that I never miss if I can help it. I've seen so many wonderful original pieces of art that I would never see elsewhere, along with horrible outrageous but fun and thought-provoking things (they can only be called "things"). One item I saw there was a wire sculpture of a face, and I thought to myself I can do that!, and so I came home and grabbed some sculpture wire, and voila! He sits now on my piano. You know, the piano that no one plays.

I will sell the sculpture for $100,000, which is a low price, by Art Basel standards.  I will throw in a nice stand.  No extra charge.

Let me know if you are interested.

$100,000

WHAT A BARGAIN!

Home, Home on the Page - and Alex

The sun is high (pronounced "hah") in the sky (pronounced "skah"). I tilt my John B (that's a cowboy hat). I lean over, pluck a golden-yellow (pronounced "yellah") weed, and I chew. I stride with confidence. I spit on the grass. I dig my heels in the fertile earth just because I can. I strike my spurs together and the sparks, they fly (pronounced "flah").

And it is all because of one thing (pronounced "thang"): I own an SKB SB-1000 0.5 millimeter. Got it straight from Texas, and I puff my chest with pride (pronounced "prahd").

It was sent to me by Raena.

What is this thang? I'll tell you what it isn't (pronounced "ain't"). It ain't a gun - I don't shoot it. It ain't a motorbike - I don't ride it. And it ain't no B--M--W (pronounced "dubya").

Here's a hint: These days I have just enough muscle to push it. That's right. It's a pen.

When I first got it, I didn't know what to think. It looks like any old ballpoint. And with apologies to Andrea Joseph, I have never sketched seriously with a ballpoint. But it's not just any old pen. It's a beauty. I've found it to be so smooth to write with, and the point is so thin. It makes a beautiful razor-thin line if you'll let it be (though I tend to drag it back and forth when I use it.) And it is obviously waterproof because it works wonderfully with watercolors. The detail possible with this pen is unbelievable.

It's funny how when you pick up something different to draw with it's still you, but all together different things seem possible. This is why it is great to have many types of drawing tools to suit your many moods.

So I've started using this pen in my moleskine, and you can see my first such sketch from life above. I also played with the watercolors a bit in this one. What d'ya'll think? Like it?

Turns out that the SKB SB-1000 0.5 mm is as valuable to me as my horse (pronounced "hahs"). My apologies to those of you who actually speak like this. ..

No I don't own a horse.

Raena is a fine online friend I've met. Alex is another. He recently drew Raena and I at his blog here. Great fun.

So one day I felt like furiously scrubbing with my Pierre Noire Conte A Paris pencil. It's name sounds snooty, doesn't it? But it's not. More like sooty. It's like a charcoal pencil only less smudgy. I drew a quick sketch of of a short-haired woman from a magazine (at the right), and that really got me in the mood to use it.

But who to draw? (With me it is always a who).

Well there was only one person I wanted to draw. Sweet revenge. And that was Alex. But where was I going to find a picture? Not that screwy one at his blog. And his wife's blog was no help either - no pictures of the hubby. So I began searching the internet, and voila! there he was. The magic of the web.

And here he is. That symbol at the bottom left is his signature symbol.

Okay, Alex my boy, tell me like it is. I can take it. Yeehaw!

Doing the Reasonable Thing

I sketched this man at Balado Tire in Miami. He was waiting for his car, and I was waiting for mine. This was my first time at Balado Tire, a place that had been recommended to me. I was happy and a little surprised that I was able to communicate with the owner with no difficulty. The service was great, and the manager spoke English well.

I am one of the few people in Miami that speak only English. As of 2008, the percentage of English-only speakers was 27.2% of the Miami population. Now I am sure that it is much less.

So you may wonder how I get by.

My answer? Just fine, thank you very much. Here is an example:

The other day I went to Subway and ordered a breakfast sandwich. The lady behind the counter asked me a question in Spanish that I didn't understand. (She was apparently asking what kind of bread I wanted and listing choices, though I didn't know it at the time). I did the only reasonable thing. I said to her: "English, please."

And she got me an English Muffin.

Which was exactly what I wanted.

See? I get by just fine.

I know that the sketch of the man at the tire place looks like others I've done, but for me it is very different. It is much larger. Here you can see size comparison of this sketch to a sketch from an earlier post. It's funny, but the transition to a larger sketchbook has been more difficult than I'd imagined. I'd done larger works before - no problem. But apparently I've gotten used to sketching in public at a certain scale. So it's been like switching from racquetball to tennis - with a different length handle, I've been missing a lot of lobs.

It hasn't helped that I have been trying to improve my sketching of the figure. My proportions have been way off at times. So I did the only reasonable thing. I took out my ruler and I measured my wife. I recommend this. Measure your spouse or significant other. After that, do whatever feels right.

Proportions have always been a challenge for me. You need to have patience for proportions. And although I like to fancy that I am a zen master with all the ohmmms in place, it ain't always so. It's why I pretty much stay away from sketching architecture. It's why drawing and painting on Yupo, which is kind of like juggling with jello while ice skating, is the appropriate way for this artist to paint a building:



I strongly recommend that you be reasonable in all that you do - like me. But don't let anyone else's definition of reasonableness replace yours. If doing the reasonable thing means doing it like everyone else, then the only reasonable thing is for you to be unreasonable, si? Makes sense to me.

Return of the Floating Heads

Wilfred at Carving Paper says, "When I am sitting, I am sketching." I've sort of adopted that as my motto as well.

But last month I decided to sketch while walking at the Susan B. Komen Breast Cancer Walk, and this is the result.

I have always thought of the awareness ribbons as symbols for causes. I have come to understand, though, that behind each ribbon - whether for breast cancer, soldiers abroad, autism awareness, or something else - there is a whisper of pain and of fear, but also a defiant shout. I admire all those who stride forward in the face of the frightening unknown.

People differ in their experiences and their reactions to them, but they are remarkably similar as well, of course. I don't know if it is because of their exotic differences or common humanity, but observing people is interesting to me, and I am compelled to draw their faces. So here is a sample from last month's sketches, recently colored with watercolors, in my new Strathmore watercolor journal.





















Faces appear to be my "default". When I am too busy, or tired, or just lazy, faces are what I draw. At the beginning of this blog (before my discovery of the wonders of watercolors), faces were all I drew. I called them "floating heads". (You can click on the images for larger views).









If you have ever tried to figure me out, psychoanalyze me, or have just been plain curious about who I am, I offer you this glimpse into my subconscious, also sketched in the Strathmore journal. This, then, is my "bar code".

So after studying it a bit, or scanning it in a reader, I ask you: are we the same, you and I, or different? Or maybe, just maybe, you'd rather not think about it.

Happy Thanksgiving!

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].

Z'Art

I have a rule. When I don't like a picture I do, I usually don't tell you. This stems from my days in Toastmasters.

Toastmasters are a fine group of people. They remind me of the Everyday Matters group. This is because they are optimistic folks, all working towards the same goal, and encouraging and teaching one another other in a positive way. Only their goal, rather than perfecting their art, is to improve public speaking skills.

One day, just before I was to give a speech, I realized that in my rush to come to the meeting, I had put on one brown sock, and one blue. Never one to waste a laugh especially when it is at my own expense, I showed the group my feet and made some kind of a joke or another and got my laugh. It was great fun.

But the experienced Toastmaster that evaluated me (everyone is evaluated when they participate - that is how you improve) told me something I've never forgotten:

Don't tell us, and we will never know. Don't point it out, and we may never notice.

And that stuck with me.

I am my own worse critic. I am hard on myself, and see the smallest defects in my art. We are all like this.

The viewer of our art, though, sees what we do differently. It we put it out there, maybe they will like it, maybe they will hate it, but I'd place bets that if they hate it, its not because of the blotch in the corner that is driving us mad. It's probably some other reason altogether.

And if they like it - if they like what we have done - they probably don't notice the blotch at all.

And this is why I don't point it out.

But today I have the opposite problem. I am excited. I actually like this one. So do I tell you?

I sketched this one on a beautiful day in sunny Hollywood, Florida, at restaurant called La Piazza Pasta. It was February 7th, the last day of the magnificent Norman Rockwell exhibition at the Fort Lauderdale Museum. That was where we went next. (If it comes to your city - go!)

For a change, I wasn't alone when I did this sketch. I was with my wife and my sister-in-law and brother-in-law. But it was such a beautiful scene that I had to pull out the pen and the Moleskine.

I tried to follow the conversation, I really did. I even tried to participate. And I only made them wait a short while until I finished when they were ready to go. When we left I snapped a quick photo with my cell phone so I would remember the colors.

Yesterday and today I painted it. I wanted to capture the outdoor light and the shadows. I wanted to be a bit playful with color. And I think I did it. And I'm thrilled.

So there's probably a "tooting your horn" rule too, one that I was never told (except by my mom). But I don't care. I'm feelin' good. To me, today, it feels like z'art!

Today my socks match!

What might tomorrow bring?

Our Tilted World

I've been away from this blog for eighteen whole days since my last post, and it's felt like forever. As Ellen so elequently described my family's last few months in her kind note: "Sometimes it seems like the world has just tipped over and none of those close to us can get their footing." And it has been just like that.

Thankfully, though, those I love are coping with their losses, as hard as they are, and overcoming their illnesses and dealing with their medical conditions. They are resilient and strong and admirable. At their age, octogenarians, they should be relaxing and enjoying, but that is not the way it is, apparently, and some of their greatest challenges occur in those years.

I should have realized this, of course. That this is not the way it is. The world is, after all, tilted. To be precise, our Earth has a tilt of 22.4 degrees. Not a single globe on this earth is upright. A reminder for the new year, I think. Each year we want the next year to be perfect. But it never is, of course.

Why not? Because our world is tilted.

And I can live with that. I have to. In fact, I want to.

All in all, 2009 has been a good year. I started my blog in March 2009 and returned to art after a quarter of a century. I have made new friends online - wonderful friends - you have been so encouraging, and I am more grateful than I can say. I have learned much, and have so opened the floodgates of creativity that it is sometimes hard to think about anything else. The blog has fed the art, and the art has fed the blog. I began painting in watercolors, and learn more about the medium each day. And I so appreciate the warm wishes all of you sent my way when things grew a bit harder.

Today I am excited about 2010. So many possibilities. There are so many, I don't know which way to go! The world wobbles as it turns, don't you think? The drawing above is a fun development for me. I've been drawing with waterproof ink. Above, I tried using water soluble ink intentionally, first drawing with the pen and then using a brush to spread the ink. How can I use this?! I can't wait to explore.

I have a new, artist quality set of watercolors that I am just beginning to use. I will continue to sketch in public. I sketched the gentleman on the left through a window, although I colored it later with the new paints. After I sketched this man - I call him Boris - I handed the drawing to my 9-year-old nephew Jake. Jake walked straight to the window directly in front of Boris, looked down at the drawing, up at Boris, down at the drawing, and up at Boris again. Tell me, do you think the man noticed? What a hoot! Somehow there is always a surprise when I sketch in public.

I have been totally taken lately with the Helga paintings of Andrew Wyeth. His watercolors have depth, atmosphere, feeling. He uses a dry brush technique, which I would like to explore. I have spent hours staring at his sketches, studies and finished paintings in the book, Andrew Wyeth: The Helga Pictures, by John Wilmerding. You can almost see how he does it. Almost, but not quite. He uses pencil, and then paints, so I decided to do the drawing on the right at the same restaurant as Boris in pencil, rather than in pen, as a first attempt. I expect to do more of this.

I am glad that the world is tilted. So many facets, so many angles, so many possibilities! There is nothing dull about it! So much to think about, and so much to do!

Happy New Year! May you perch yourself on your tilted world and laugh at the joy of it in 2010!

Things and Stuff and Shadows

The Miami Book Fair International: I don't know if you have anything like this near you, but if you do, and you don't go, you are cheating yourself. If you are a reader, of course, you will be close to heaven - guaranteed.

But you don't have to be a reader to enjoy the fair.

Authors speak about their books, and they write about things that interest them. So if you are interested in things, the book fair is for you.

Then there are many, many booths where you can buy books for cheap! Cheap, of course, is good. And books can be about all kinds of stuff. So if you are interested in stuff, then the book fair is for you too.

And then there are the people - everywhere the people - fun to watch, fun to draw, and the fair food and the bands. What more can I say?

It seems like I've been sketching in public forever but in fact this is the first year that I even thought to sketch at the fair. I drew the panel of authors above in my Moleskine in the morning. It was my first drawing of the day. [Since the blog does not show two-page spreads well, double-click on the image to see it clearly.]

I drew the authors as each of them spoke in turn. They spoke in this order (from left to right, 1, 2, 4, 3). My hand was kind of tight on number 1, but by the time I got to 3 and 4 I was cookin'! It may just be me, but I think the drawing reflects this.

For those Everyday Matters folks that sketch in church (at their blog here) and claim to hear the sermon: I listened to each of the panelists. I laughed at their jokes in the right places, and I heard what they said. But now I can't remember a darned thing. I suspect it was because I was so busy drawing that my brain can't quite split in two like that to retain the information. It might just be my brain - all the filing cabinets may be full. Or the difference may be this: you never expect to have to (or sometimes even want to) remember a sermon afterwards, right? Or at least I don't.

There is more about the book fair - another sketch and a tale of loneliness, that will be the subject of a third fair post. That tale is the story that I spoke about in my last post. So for Martine, who said, "What about telling us more... soon?", and all of the others waiting for a story, patience .. patience. (Man, I hope it's good!)

In the meantime, though, here is my entry for Shadow Shot Sunday. It's a little early I know, but the blog is from Down Under. For Australia, this Sunday probably happened last Tuesday anyway. Besides, I will be visiting with family over the next two days and won't have time to post this weekend.

Hope you had a Happy Thanksgiving!

And That's How it Goes

Here's how it goes when you are sketching live. The man playing with his blackberry who seems like he will be there forever gets up when a group arrives. Luckily he hangs around talking to them, since your drawing is as yet headless. So you have time to sketch his head.

Then you begin sketching the woman next to him and just as you are about to sketch her forearm and hand, another lady sits down where the man had been. She places a big manila file on her lap and blocks your view. So you sketch the manila file.

But since the man didn't have anything on his lap and you've drawn his lap already, by the way, the manila file is now floating in thin air. So you have to put a box under it.

The other woman is a doll and stays put.

That's how it goes when you are sketching live.

So every now and then, even when you are in Einstein Bagel's surrounded by interesting people to sketch, you just don't feel like exerting the effort. So you sketch the rack holding the cream and to-go boxes for coffee instead. And it is a pleasure to do (except when people get cream or sugar for their coffee. The nerve of them).

And I intend to color this one. But I kind of like the line drawing just as it is, so I thought I'd share it this way too.

Today I faced one more challenge. I was at an outdoor cafe when a very small neon green lizard hopped on my hand while I was painting. He seemed quite content to stay, but I eased him onto the ground anyway.

So it's true what they say: you never know what might happen when you get out of the house.

Falafel, Shawarma, and Other Three-Syllabled Mediterranean Words

On Saturdays I often go to Davie, Florida, a bastion of Southern Pride, complete with cowboys, good ole' boys, horses, and rodeos. But when I go there, I eat at Fala Falafel, a Mediterranean fast food place. Why is it there? Who knows? There are no camels in Davie as far as I know.

The walls there are bright orange on one side and lime green on the other, and somehow it is all good - fashionable and comfortable. This is probably due in large part to how delicious and fresh the food is and how enormously friendly the staff and the owner. When I go, I eat the shawarmas. Why have anything else? But they serve other Mediterranean stuff too. And for the Rhinestone Cowboys, they serve Smoothies.

Because many are not familiar with all those Mediterranean words, a sign is posted on the wall entitled "How to Order". I love this. Ordering is a bit of a challenge for some but the staff is very helpful and friendly about the whole thing, and I can attest that it is well worth the effort. This worked for me once too on an entirely different level because one day I was able to sketch a girl brooding over the menu; it took her quite a while to decide. I could have told her had she asked..the shawarma, the shawarma.

So hello to Brandon and Brandon's girlfriend (darned if I haven't forgotten your name), both of whom work there! Brandon has shown quite a bit of interest in my sketches and has even visited this blog - one of the select few. So Brandon, this post is for you.

What Has One Body, Three Heads and No Feet? Answer: This Post!

The gal on the left walked away from Einstein's Bagels before I could draw her feet. There's some irony in that, isn't there?

The two floating heads on the right (from Chipotle Grill) are in my other Moleskine. The paper in that other Moleskine doesn't accept watercolors which is fine with me, since occasionally I just want to be free! Trying to find the ideal balance between detail in the ink drawing and the watercolor can be tiring, and this gives me a break from that struggle. (Not to mention the fact that I am still acquiring my watercolor chops.) At this point I am leaning towards more detail in the drawing - it doesn't seem to hurt the result.

Anyway, I carry both Moleskines around with me, often wearing my Lamy Safari (fountain pen) in my front pocket. I've become quite the art nerd, don't you think?

I have several small Moleskine works in process - none are finished yet. One I am particularly excited about (fingers are crossed). These will be posted in the weeks to come.

But today I leave you with these few small sketches and, as an art nerd, I feel I must provide a challenging word problem as well. Here it is:

Two floating heads plus one figure minus two feet, equals what exactly?

Er, you are good at math, aren't you?

On Target: Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes & Father's Day Thoughts: On Being a Father

At the Supertarget at the counter in the eating area, my target was a blonde girl with an unusual outfit: she wore a white medical jacket, a black baseball cap, long black pants and black sneakers. She also had a small black purse - I guess you could say that the purse matched the outfit. She didn't see me drawing her, and I had plenty of time. She left when I was leaving.

This sketch in public is a step forward for me in a few ways: First, I think it is the first time in a restaurant environment that I managed to draw an entire person. Woohoo! Second, I applied all of the watercolors, there, on site. For me this is very new. I have only just begun using colors in my sketches.



Lamy Safari with Noodlers ink and watercolors in a Moleskine


This drawing meets Everyday Matters challenge no. 36 - Draw out in Public. While I have drawn in public many times before, drawing in ink and then applying watercolor on site, and actually completing the person, makes me grab this challenge like a prize!

It's just a few hours till Father's Day, so please excuse me while I depart from the usual subject of art, and indulge in some fatherly rambling and occasional bragging about my sons (as this doddering old fool will sometimes do). Before I begin I will mention that because it is Father's Day, the boys' mother is not mentioned. This is, of course, a crime, because their mother, my wife, is wholly dedicated to her boys in every way possible. She worries more than I do, feels more than I do, works more than I do, and loves the boys with every ounce of her soul. But, sorry mom, it is Father's Day. Crime committed.

My oldest son, Ian, age 19, has never been so far away from us before. He is in college majoring in chemical engineering, and for a semester he is studying abroad in France and exploring Europe. What a young man he has become! Besides doing very well in school (his job, I know, but he does his job well), he has come to be a responsible, self-reliant, honest, moral, and self-reflecting individual. I could not be more proud than to have Ian as my son. I miss him, and look forward to stealing what time I can with him during the week between semesters. (Yes, and though written in the third person, this message is for you, Ian. I love you.)

My youngest, Matthew, is 13-years-old, and of course he is still at home. What is unusual is that he will probably always live at home. He will not read this post. Matthew is autistic.

Matt has taught me more about what it means to be a father than I ever knew that there was to learn. He is a constant challenge. Still, he is always moving forward, though slowly. Since for many parents of autistic children, there is no progress at all, this is a blessing. It gives me some hope. He tests the limits of my abilities and dedication, but he has taught me to be more even-tempered, more patient, and more empathetic. In sum, I am a better person because of Matthew. Most of my worries are for Matt - who he will become, what he can accomplish, what life he can live - but with all of the complexities that is Matthew in sum, life is richer for having him as my son.

Being a father is not unique. Everyone on earth has had a father, of course. But for me, fatherhood is rare. And it is precious.