Drawing the Saint Johns Bridge, Part 2

3699I continue to extend the work on the Saint Johns Bridge drawing.

I am half going with my eyes and half going with my gut, just like I did with Mt Saint Helens. Since the trusses of the span are rather complex, I'm taking it little by little, and it's proceeding as such. But just like I finally decided to push through and go for broke on the Mt Saint Helens drawing, it seems to have done the trick here.

I guess I just didn't trust myself as much then.

Maybe I should have started over with an undistressed piece of Bristol. Oh, well, I'm all in on it now.

Also, We Are Drawing The Saint Johns Bridge

3695We are either languid on one project or trying to do more than one simultaneously.

About three (!) years ago when I finished the drawing of Mount Saint Helens - Luuit - in eruption, I felt great guns to go on to something else. What do I love? Landmarks! What sort of landmark? How about something more geometrical, like a bridge. What's the best bridge? The Saint Johns Bridge, of course.

So I sharked me a picture of it from the intarwebz (this is before I had a good one of my own) and laid down my grid on a big piece of Bristol, and started in. And then, finding the structure in some parts was more complex than I thought, hit a wall.

And this piece of Bristol has lain there ever since, while I painted over it and cats walked over it (don't fret, it's not as nasty as all that ... nothing an eraser and a bit of elbow grease can't fix).

So, today, something told me to get it back up to the top of the stack, said "to hell with the technical complexity, this is about learning something, just stick it out and do the best you can", and I accomplished this:

I am once again painting,which in this case is drawing, and what is drawing but painting with graphite? And after I laid that down, I had that spark, that frisson, that something just clicked. Like with the drawing of Luuit, I finally ... finally ... grasped that I could just possibly do this, just represent it the best I can, take it easy, one square at a time, and come as close as I can.

The Luuit drawing was an approimation, after all, and look how good it wound up!

Yeah, I can do this.

Considering Bridgman's Complete Guide To Drawing From Life

3541A.

I, very recently, under the aegis of Powell's, acquired Bridgman's Complete Guide to Drawing From Life to bolster an already-groaning shelf loaded with books on drawing practice and technique.

As an older work, it attracts. George Bridgman was an artist and illustrator who lived from 1865-1943. He was trained at the Ecole des Beaux Arts and made the practical part of his fame teaching anatomy at the legendary Art Students' League of New York; he's said to have taught thousands of art students the subject, and amongst his more famous students were Will Eisner and Norman Rockwell.

He taught a method of anatomy that involved grouping the large masses into blocks and connecting them with gestural curves and 'wedges' to simplify drawing the human form.

The book itself has remained popular over the years, remaining in print in many editions. It's a meaty book, weighing in at 300 pages and generously laid-out with a legion of simple yet communicative drawings and patiently-worded text.

I've not been all the way through this yet, but it appears to be a worthy reference book for any artist's shelf.

Might Could Draw Today ... For Artistic Motivation

3523A.

Christine Nishiyama is an illustrator who is the foundation of Might Could Studios, and believes in community, accountability and consistent practices. This last week, she's debuted an Instagram community that may be just the note some of us under-motivated aspirers need to at least draw something every day.

As detailed in this article on Medium, Might Could Draw Today is a program of drawing prompts and sharing that offer a reason to draw through a different approach to drawing prompts, a community of friends you have yet to make, and small prizes as encouragement.

It has a few simple moving parts. Each Monday, participants are emailed a single drawing prompt. Every day for the next week, do one drawing based on that prompt and post it to Instagram under the hashtag #MightCouldDrawToday. These drawings can be dashed-off in a hurry or lingered over, in whatever style the artist cares and whatever level of care the artist deems appropriate.

That's all there is to it. Oh, and the inducement: Christine awards an art material prize each week to one lucky player. Could be a pen, or a drawing pad, or a marker.

The aim is simple: just do a drawing each day. And there is more than one mutual-encouragement based drawing community on line, but not every one has the right note for everyone. The objectives are direct: just drawing something every day, regardless of skill.

From my personal experience, you can have any level of skill, and you can be neck-deep in inspiration, but if you don't have motivation, you don't have a thing. For those needing motivation, this may just be the thing.

Visit the Might Could Draw Today main page at mightcouldstudios.com/mightcoulddrawtoday/, where signup for the challenge can be accomplished.

Drawings from the Andrew Loomis Self-Didactic School of Cartooning

3513A.

One of the glories of Andrew Loomis's drawing books is they have cute little caricature heads that you can just sit down and draw in a few minutes, which is ideal if you want to just draw something today and don't have either the time, patience, or discipline to do it (or some proportional combination of the three factors).

I've demonstrated this in another post. But in order to actually just open a sketchbook and make marks, which is the habit I'm trying to instil right now, I'm choosing a little sketchy cartoon head and drawing it down.

The above is the second one I did. Below is the first. Drawings in graphite on shattered and deferred dreams.

I have a little bit of drawing aptitude, but, seriously, Loomis asks the aspiring artist to draw a rough circle, smoosh some lumps on it, embolden the lines that matter, et voila!, you really do have a cartoon head.

Right now, it's just old bald white guys with mustaches and smoking cigars and pipes, but I'm looking to expand from there.

But it's really not difficult. If you have no experience or developed aptitude, it just takes me a little shorter than it'd take you. The one thing one really has to get over is the feeling that if you aren't following exact instructions, it's not valid, also, the misguided idea that you have to finish with an accomplished drawing. Those aren't finished, polished, or particularly accomplished, but the are drawings and they do communicate. And they're in my sketchbook, which is where I get to make mistakes.

My wife already knows this lesson. She's working on developing a little character for single-panel gags she'd like to do. She's got sheets covered with this little guy and the more she does, the more she does more. And she's having kick-ass fun with it, and, of the two of us, I'm the one who's acknowledged as the aspiring artist. She just kicks out the jams and does it.

If there's not a lesson to be had in there, I don't know where us dithering artists-in-process can find one that's worth anything.

We are our own worst enemies, sometimes.

Drawing Scott McCloud at the Multnomah County Library

3505/A.

So, yesterday, I drew comics scholar Scott McCloud at the Multnomah County Library.

Yeah! Totally! He totally came by and sat for me, and this is totally what he looks like in real life:

I mean, it would be cool to be able to say that, but obviously not. But I was able to take my ballpoint out and dash this down (using is visage on the cover of Understanding Comics as a model, naturlich), and that was a satisfying thing.

Also satisfying: this picture on the right here. Working from a cue in a book titled The Confident Creative, I wanted to make some marks and fill a sketchbook page, I didn't have a subject, didn't have an idea, just started drawing lines. It became an exercise in trying to use those lines to create a suggestion of volume and space, and it succeeded somewhat. I had two arms snaking off and merging into the background, a ceiling up top, and, on the bottom, kind of a shelf going into something resembling a waterfall.

All drawings are ballpoint or liquid ball ink on crushed and deferred dreams.

[art] Why Do You Think You Need To Draw A Straight Line?

3397.

Now that I've returned to drawing and plan to draw more I can expect this to happen.

Now, it must be said that my drawing talent is middling at best. I, as every aspriring artist, want it to be more, and that's why we practice. And what follows is some philosophical ruminating; feel free to skip. But it is a question I heard whenever I found myself drawing and people would look at what I was doing.

When you have a reputation as an artist, people will do that. They love to see art happen. And when they do, a phrase comes unbidden, almost compulsively from those who admire what you do:

Oh, I couldn't even draw a straight line!

Which is a nonsensical thing to say, when you think about it. There are, I'm confident to say, absolutely no straight lines in my sketchbook. I've looked it over. They don't exist. But the question is ere asked and I've heard it enough in my life that me, only an aspiring artist with middling talent who still mostly draws for his own pleasure that it's become this conversational token, something that is handed over for the privilege of watching (which, ironically, is free, so long as you don't, like, lurk over the shoulder. Bubble, people!)

The more one thinks about it the more quizzical it becomes. It's patently easy to draw a straight line, anyone and everyone can do it; get yourself a ruler, a piece of paper, and a pencil, and run that one bad boy along the other. Et voila! Straight line achievement unlocked.

Pointing out that simple truth, of course, isn't the answer, because that isn't what people mean, not at all of course. Everyone, I think, has a yearning to do art; they don't because they think there's this mystical barrier keeping them out, that once they quit being kids, when the only excuses they needed were a box of Crayola and a stack of scrap paper (or maybe a wall, as many parents still struggle with budding artists who want to do installations), they had to have training. They had to be accomplished. They had to produce perfect finished works or it wasn't worth starting.

You can point this all out to an admirer, and still you'll hear it: I can't do art. I couldn't draw a straight line. Which makes you wonder who said drawing a straight line became the barrier for entry into the artists' clique.

You don't have to be able to draw a straight line. Not only that, you don't have to really want to be a capital-A-Artist. You just have to want to do some art.

And, I find myself coming back, as Ouroborous, to the head from the tail with this thought, which leaves me with another one: Why do people who admire art being made feel compelled to declare that this simple thing, they cannot do? I don't know if anyone, including me, will ever be sure, but I have a feeling that, when seeing art being made, we all hear the call to do it ourselves, and art in society is not treated as a given but as an option, and we fear failure at the trying.

I suppose I would ask anyone saying that to look at themselves and ask why, and just that once, answer that call. Perhaps people feel as though you need to be going for pro status for just trying, and that's certainly not true; I have gotten so many hours of pleasure out of simply drawing for the simple creative act I've lost count of them. I'd advise my interlocutor to come to terms with that thought; try drawing simply as a perfectly private pastime. The world, after all, isn't full of commercially successful artists. That isn't everyone's destiny. But one may well enjoy drawing for pleasure, and you don't even have to see yourself as an artist to do that. Bob Ross and Bill Alexander built empires on teaching people to do art that they liked just because they liked doing it, and not much more.

And if you, after trying to draw for pleasure, feel that it bores you, then don't regret letting that go. The world is, after all made up of artists … and art lovers. And if you enjoy just looking at and being around art, we artists appreciate that, truly. Because a great deal of the fun of doing art is knowing someone's going to look at it and maybe even like it. We could very well be pointless without the rest of you.

So, do some art. Even if you can't draw a straight line.

Nobody ever said that was really a requirement, anyway.

I'll probably revisit this idea some time down the road. 

[cartoon] Major Tom Cat: Winning Friends for No Opposable Thumbs Feline SF Anthology

3392.

I didn't think he'd go over this big. I'm going to have to develop him into a more of a character of his own!

A very short while ago, I did a cartoon cat as the beginning of a few cartoons that my friend, Amanda Wolfe, needed as an illustrative theme for her upcoming SF-feline-themed anthology, No Opposable Thumbs. Since he was a boy kitty he got the name of Major Tom and she liked it and I was proud and she had his visage put on some cards and for promo, took it up to GeekGirl Con in Seattle this last weekend.

Well, seems as though is first mission was something of a success, says Amanda on her Facebook post:

The cards for No Opposable Thumbs were a hit. Even the artists who know writers loved the Major Tom (Cat) drawn by Samuel John Klein. There was one dealer there who had a Space Cat on some merch that looked like Tom... although not as comical of an expression. Even they loved it and kept a card.

Pretty sweet, huh?  The approbation is almost as sweet as knowing Major Tom made such a good impression for Amanda's effort, which is a worthy one and I'm happy to support this with my art, such as I can provide it. There are more drawings underway, and I can't help but think, after he's done his service for Amanda, Major Tom can't become a sort of continuing character in his own right.

He sure got The Right Stuff, don't he?

The submissions guidelines and form for submitting to No Opposable Thumbs can be found at Wolfeangel Press, http://wolfeangel.net/no-opposable-thumbs-anthology/.

[cartoonist] New Artist!: Jupiter Dragon And Her Blog

3390.

Recent readers will remember that I've been a fan of J.R.R.R. (Jim) Hardison's writing for a while (Buy Fish Wielder on Amazon, yo) but what we've been aware of on Facebook is that his daughter is a budding artist which undoubted skill.

Human Lady Rainicorn (c) 2016, Jupiter Dragon

He's been sharing her art online. The illustration is just a clip out of one of her works in which she depicts the character Lady Rainicorn from Adventure Time as a young, hip, stylish human lady.

There's more now, she's just starting out but she's got work that a strong manga influence but also hints at a firm grasp of drawing natural forms, inking, and a great familiarity with craft that a lot of us aspiring artists reach for.

The strength of the talent behind the "First Post", a stunning realistic picture of a rearing horse's head, must be acknowledged.

She is launching an art blog under her art nom de guerre: Jupiter Dragon, and ignition has happened at http://jupiterdragon.blogspot.com/. Impressive!

[drawing] Another Manga Girl

3378.

This one was given the character archetype of "Mean Girl". Maybe she just knows what she wants.

She comes off more as a Wednesday Addams type to me, though. But I'm practicing. 

[drawing] Manga Schoolgirl, Drawn At Denny's

3376.

The Wife™ and me dined at Denny's tonight. She had the beef kebab, and I had a sriracha bacon burger; the burger was superb, I must say.

Then there was some diary prolixtude followed by a bit of drawing. I hauled out a book on manga I had with me and used it to draw this:

I also found out that I should check the markings on my pencil a little better; a lifetime of pencil writing means I have habituated to HB and draw best with that; I drew with a 2B and was bemused as to why my point was dulling so fast.

Well, in some ways I've not had a point in literally years, So There's That™.

[liff] How We Do Affirmations Around Here

3372.

I've always held a very skeptical view of the affirmation. As implemented around me, I seem to interpret it as people passionately wishing to the aether which contains some immanent presence that answers them if they ask hard or long or passionately or artfully enough.

That doesn't quite work for me. I don't think there will ever be any conclusive answer to the question of is there an animating force to the universe and if so, it'll be different for each and every person who answers. I, however, do realize that we human people seem to be configured with an metaphysics plug-in, so I try to keep it, at least, fed in some way. What I have for a psyche seems to work a little better that way.

All that said, the properly-worded affirmation seems to have a positive effect on the mood. I seem to wilt less in the face of travail that way. So, taking my cue from an 80s song by The Sherbs, and arraying certain tools about me, I acknowledge that I am worth believing in by myself, and it helps.

Ain't no magician, no miracle maker. True, that. 

[cartoon] The Story of Major Tom, the Space Cat

3370.

I am involved in the project of a very good friend who gave me motivation to draw, at last.

You can look a lot of places to find motivation, and sometimes, when it's pressed upon you, that's the best thing.

Anyway, her name is Amanda, and as a friend, I love her lots; she's got an idea for a work involving cats in SF (I won't say exactly what, it's her baby, and she deserves to aborn it. I'll not steal that thunder). It requires cat cartoons.

Now, a cartoonist or an illustrator is something I've always fancied becoming. So when she asked me if I could draw cats, well, I can draw anything I set my mind to, even if the muscles are out of practice, so I jumped at this chance. Science fictional fuzzbutts? Totally sign me up for this. So, after a bit of experimenting, I came up with this spacesuited guy. If he seems bewildered, well … what cat hasn't?

Meet Major Tom. Tom Cat, of course.

He kind of named himself. When I grew up, you had to be in the military to pilot one of the big birds. And, well, 'tom' cats are a thing, and after I had him inked in, I knew it was Major Tom I was looking at.

His last known transmission?

My Dog … it's full of 'nip …

When he gets back, he'll certainly be a happy guy.

[art] A Space Cat

3367.

Because I haven't posted anything in a few days, here's a clip out of the sketchbook:

Experiments in cartooning for a project I'm helping out on. Space Kat is up for anything and can go far … but she is a little bewildered.

Well, you know the attention span of a cat. Nothing. 

[drawing liff] Figure Drawing For All It's Worth At A Price. Just One Condition …

3361.

Now, amongst all my interests I do flash searches for when on the premises at Powell's City o' Books, is Andrew Loomis. In one of my recent missives I did note that you can find some of his earlier works there in vintage collectible volumes, and a particular Walter Foster release of his, originally priced at $1.00, was on sale for $45.00.

I don't criticize here. I handled it most thoughtfully. Its condition was immaculate.

So, when I did a customer lookup for Loomis and found that Figure Drawing For All It's Worth was on sale for the unexpectedly delightful bargain price of $14.95, you know I had to look that stuff up! I noticed, though, it was trade paperback, in the Red Room, Japanese language-generic.

Hmm. The hunt, however, was on. It was more difficult than anticipated, or maybe as difficult as anticipated, because its size and cover design made it blend in with the rest of the Japanese books, which all share a similar design and color grammar. But I did find it. And here it is:

And it would have gone home with me, at that price, but the value of Loomis' texts is that there's a wealth of warmth, humor, and knowledge in the words, and with me being absolutely illiterate in Japanese, it would never be more than an interesting bagatelle around here.

If you read Nihongo, and love drawing, though, there's a treat for you waiting at Powell's right now. They have just the one copy.

[art] Demo: Funny Faces The Andrew Loomis Way

3359.

The Loomis method of art auto-didactitude is so attractively simple I had to give it a shot. Herewith my result.

The Loomis method expects you to be crap at drawing your circles, straight lines, et. al., in other words, it accepts you as it finds you and builds on whatever aptitude … or lack of such … that you have. It starts at the top with the head, and treats the head as a ball that you stick lumps of other clay on to approximate the other shapes that make up the head … jowls, bulby noses, ears, what ever you need. Looking at the photo below you can see where Loomis is going with this; kooky cartoony faces.

The first part of the book, then deals with the head and face. Let's take a look.

For simplicity's sake, I'll try the very first one there on the left. It looks very simple and doable just for the perusal. And, if you look at the examples on the right, it becomes fairly clear that the method adapts to just about any shape you want to employ, even if your sphere looks more like a lima bean. No worries, and no pressure, just have fun with it. But I get ahead of things here. In this view, you can see I've sketched out a circle and divided it down the more-or-less center; a circle in the center will serve as the basis of our nose. Short dashes equidistant above the center circle will locate the face's mouth and eyes.

Now for some more facial features:

Sticking a couple of blobs either side of nose provides us with the basis for the wings over the nostrils, a couple of quick curves on either side of the head base the floppy ears. Two big ovals on either side of the mouth are the foundations of the jowls, and a couple of blobs on the nadir of the circle for the cleft chin.

A few minutes of erasing and darkening in of the lines after the example illustration and we've arrived rather quickly at our destination.

It only took me abut 15 minutes to do this drawing, but if I hadn't stopped to compose and take the shots, it would have only taken about 5. If you're new to drawing, it would probably only take you 15. And that's the genius of this method; take simple shapes that anybody can draw and put them together until you get the foundation you need, then lay in the hard lines. The Loomis method, in the beginning, is particularly suited to cartoony, funny faces (recall the countenance of Professor Blook?) and logically might inspire someone to create their own cartoony characters.

Loomis doesn't stop there, though. The next time we meet here about Andy Loomis, I'll take a look at where he takes us.

[comics] How To Draw A Horse Right, By Someone Who Should Know.

3296.

In this video, comic deity Donna Barr shows you how to draw a horse the right way, in 15 minutes, assisted by another comic deity, Roberta Gregory ...



The video was done last year at the Clallam Bay Comiccon, and if you didn't know that Donna created the series Stinz, then you should get acquainted with that.

(posted with some abashedness that I waited so long to do so. Personal reasons)

[art] They Said I Could Draw Here, So This Is What I Drew

3266.

I'm playing with a guided sketchbook called Drawing Is Magic, and the author encourages the book's owner to draw in spaces that weren't specifically meant for drawing. I wanted to, so I did.

If you'll note the mailbox, you can see that I'm so painfully Oregon that I know what the mailing address for the State Capitol.

[art] Doing A Small Mucha Thing

3171.

It took me a shockingly long time to decipher, for myself, that I love the poster art of Alphonse Mucha. I come to certain realizations rather late. I've recognized that this is my way and I've made a sort of peace with it; I'm not down with it, no, but it is what it is. We ship the information and move ahead.

Once I realized that this was one of my visual loves I've read about as much as I possibly could. I've assimilated the central legend of the man, how a chance meeting with Sarah Barnhardt would catapult the man to the sort of overnight success that you so frequently hear about, that artist who worked patiently on his art until the lightning bolt struck and when it did, he so happened to be ready to catch it.

His posters are, of course, justifiably gorgeous and give the eye back all the love it offers. Gismonda is memorable, La Samaritaine gorgeously intriguing. One wonders what sort of career La Barnhardt would have inscribed with today's supernovaesque media behind her. For my emotional money, though, the girl in the Cycles Perfecta ad has my heart, the way she beckons with her eyes and her open expression from the page.

In the book I checked out from the Multnomah County Library, I found a photo of the rough sketch for Cycles Perfecta and, reduced to its opening pencil marks, it looked like something I could do … or at least, something I should attempt. I haven't drawn anything for a very long time.

It was worth a try.

Cycle girl courtesy Mucha and Multnomah County Library. GraphiteCourtesy Cretacolor; Bristol ATCs courtesy Strathmore; Ink courtesy
Stabilo (and Copic (not shown)); all courtesy my hard-earned bux.

When you neglect your artistic jones for a long long time, you enter a sort of strange stasis. You start to feel as though you're keeping it in a box for just the right time. Then you open it and it feels awkward, stiff, but you use it anyway, because you've told yourself you've been away too long, and some people you love, who know you're shorting yourself until you do this thing, have never, oddly, given up on you even though you have, in a way given up on yourself.

So, the drawing itself feels stiff and awkward. It's quite rewarding, actually, even though you don't get it done the way you want to get it done. Of course, it'll be work. You knew this already. Same thing as happens with someone whose let themselves get out of physical shape after being in great condition. You're lugging this weight.

So, false-start here, bad line there. No matter. Do it anyway. And the result isn't great, but what did you expect? Mucha worked for years and did it every day. the result, seen below, does not satisfy me, but … but … I am happy for it. I did this thing. And the eyes are too wide and crabby; the curve of the face, comically-tragically asymmetrical. The mouth doesn't look anything like the mouth of the original.

She looks like a rank beginner, which is what I'm back to being. I have only myself to blame. You use it or you lose it; but if I didn't have it to begin with at some time or another, it wouldn't have got me this far.

Ahh, Square One. So we meet again.

And so it goes. 

[liff] Odds and Sods #2, 2014

3012.

Before I sign out for the day, cats and kittens, here's a few sweepings from the studio floor.

• Ars Technica has a nifty article on the slow-motion fall of QuarkXPress. I still have a copy of QXP on my hard drive … it's QXP6. I learned layout in QXP3. QXP killed PageMaker, danced all over its grave for several years, and then fell asleep. By the time Quark had woke up with Indy in its rearview, it was too late to build up steam. Now it's the minority platform, though it's hard to tell … reliable figures on market shave haven't been available for a looooong time, however, it's a sign of the times when a poster at a GD forum can soberly ask the question Is QuarkXPress still relevant and it's a calm discussion rather than a white-hot flame-war. Meanwhile, Quark is still selling XPress, and it's up to version 10. Still pretty pricy, but if you're not thrilled with the idea of the Creative Cloud …
• Common sense from FastCompany Design about how not to get screwed by clients. My experience is the real trick is not to let your desperation for work cause you to jump where you ought to have stood pat. What happens is you don't seem professional, you don't act professional … and you stay an amateur. Worst, you jump for jobs and hope to bull your way through until you get on top. This never happens. When your reach exceeds your grasp, it'll slip through your fingers and fall ugly. Trust me here. 
• A nifty-looking art contest. I'm against giving away your art for free, so, with all caution advised, this is a good-looking trifle and probably some fun to get involved with, as long as you're down with all you're going to get out of it is 25 bookmarks and Doodlers Anonymous will send 250 out to people what order their books. 
• NoLo, SoBu, TriBeCa, SoWhoTheHellCares, So what's in a cutesy little nabe name? Burrito Justice, a vibrant SanFran blog with a witty what-the-hell attitude, can tell you about La Lengua.
• It's a $20 Megabuck battle-of-the-type-giants as Hoefler and Frere-Jones duke it out in the squared circle of the courtroom over who owns all those fonts really. When it comes to H and FJ, there is no such thing as a little disagreement. 
• … and you know that TriMet cable-stay transit bridge? We have our name finalists. Not bad, but Kirk Reeves' name didn't make the cut, which has me teh sadd. We'll have to find some other way to honor him, is all.
• … and speaking of cats 'n' kittens, we have the story of what happened when one monk in one scriptorium forgot to close his book. Hey, mousing is hard work, and cat's gotta go somehwere, guise … 

Happy Frigga Day, and always remember to keep your precious documents out of Fluffy's way!