Figurative Drawing/Painting class
I had my first class today. I enjoyed it very much. There as a live model (with clothes) and we drew/painted in 20 minute stretches. I got one really bad watercolor out of it. Everyone else is doing oils or acrylic. I have no wish at all to use that stuff. It stinks and stains and requires special handling. I can do watercolor siting on the couch watching tv. So I was the oddball. After all these years I'm kind of used to that.
The teacher was sort of weirded out that I wanted to sit with the watercolor block in my lap and sketch with one of my #2 pencil that has the basketball logos all over them. (I gave them to Debrah many years ago. She never used them. I got them back when she died.)She tried to get me to use a drawing board (No, thanks, I never use them.) She tried to get me to use the easel (Thanks anyway, rather hold it in my lap.) She offered me this bench thing that you straddle like a horse. It holds the drawing board at an angle. It made my butt hurt just to look at it. I turned it down too.
Once she stopped being nice to me we finally got started. Drawing a person is different from drawing a photo. People twitch and move which is a bit disconcerting. But seeing the subject in 3 dimensions is nice. It's different somehow. Professional photographers usually use special lighting to get rid of most shadows. With a live model lit with a couple of lamps you get lots of nice shadows that help define the shapes. I had a lot of trouble with hands and feet and just sat for a while drawing with my eyes, sort of. The model noticed I was staring at her and not drawing and did a double take but seemed to be ok with it. The drawing with the eyes thing really helps. I finally drew a foot that didn't look like something off the mother ship.
I came home and took my usual nap and then mucked out the living room. We spent a quiet evening watching "The Last Mimsie" which is so-so. I'm glad we didn't pay full price at the theater. It put it in my head that I might try writing a juvenile. Chris and I just finished the Golden Compass. It was good and not good, oddly. It has a fabulous premise and is written beautifully, almost on a literary level. But the characters were dim and the plot was slow. I could do better (she said modestly).
Well Chris is hinting around that it's time to go to bed. ("I'm going to bed. You're invited.") We are reading a Nero Wolfe at the moment. Rex Stout is a genius and does NOT write children's books! Archie Goodwin is calling. Everybody take care of yourselves!
The teacher was sort of weirded out that I wanted to sit with the watercolor block in my lap and sketch with one of my #2 pencil that has the basketball logos all over them. (I gave them to Debrah many years ago. She never used them. I got them back when she died.)She tried to get me to use a drawing board (No, thanks, I never use them.) She tried to get me to use the easel (Thanks anyway, rather hold it in my lap.) She offered me this bench thing that you straddle like a horse. It holds the drawing board at an angle. It made my butt hurt just to look at it. I turned it down too.
Once she stopped being nice to me we finally got started. Drawing a person is different from drawing a photo. People twitch and move which is a bit disconcerting. But seeing the subject in 3 dimensions is nice. It's different somehow. Professional photographers usually use special lighting to get rid of most shadows. With a live model lit with a couple of lamps you get lots of nice shadows that help define the shapes. I had a lot of trouble with hands and feet and just sat for a while drawing with my eyes, sort of. The model noticed I was staring at her and not drawing and did a double take but seemed to be ok with it. The drawing with the eyes thing really helps. I finally drew a foot that didn't look like something off the mother ship.
I came home and took my usual nap and then mucked out the living room. We spent a quiet evening watching "The Last Mimsie" which is so-so. I'm glad we didn't pay full price at the theater. It put it in my head that I might try writing a juvenile. Chris and I just finished the Golden Compass. It was good and not good, oddly. It has a fabulous premise and is written beautifully, almost on a literary level. But the characters were dim and the plot was slow. I could do better (she said modestly).
Well Chris is hinting around that it's time to go to bed. ("I'm going to bed. You're invited.") We are reading a Nero Wolfe at the moment. Rex Stout is a genius and does NOT write children's books! Archie Goodwin is calling. Everybody take care of yourselves!