Sweet Pea Summer Morning

Pure contour

It's been a long time since I sat down with the drawing pad, but the other morning a vase of sweet blossom beckoned, and I had gotten up early enough that there was no rush to the morning. Sweet peas are very complicated flowers! But that's good for getting lost in the meditation.

Looking at, Seeing, Drawing Iris

First, the "pure" (blind; free) contour

Iris #1

Iris #2

Two together

Whole sheet

Dandelions at the Base of Basswood Tree

This morning's subject

It was a lovely morning to sit outdoors

with pencils and sketchbook.

Pure contour drawing (pen)

"Finished" drawing (pencil)

Convoluted Daffodils

The daffodils that bloom every year under the mammoth old silver maple between our backyard and the henhouse are not the simple shapes I usually buy to plant myself, but their fussy, frilly edges do present an interesting drawing challenge. As usual, I began with a blind contour drawing. After drawing the entire vase that way, I did a couple more blind contour drawings of individual blooms, just because the pen felt so good on the paper, and it was intriguing to look only at the flower as I drew and only afterward at the drawing.

Last but not least, I concentrated on a single bloom for a modified contour drawing, i.e., one made by looking at both subject and paper while working. I was pleased with my modest result, and it was a good way to begin the day. 

Charcoal and Eraser in the Evening

The activity pictured in this post didn't start out as meditation, but with time it took on that quality.

"Prepared ground"

First few grid squares completed

Background: When the guys at the lumber yard in Northport asked why I needed an 8" x 10" piece of clear plexiglass, I had no clue. It was on the list of supplies Elizabeth Abeel asked us to round up for her class, "See as the Artist Sees," Part II. In Part I (which I took last fall) our only tools were pencil, eraser, and paper. This time around the process is much more complicated (and much messier!), as we're using charcoal and all kinds of associated odds and ends -- wax paper, wet wipes, stumps and tortillons, etc. -- including the plexiglass.

My last couple of mornings have been very busy, anyway, not leaving much time for leisurely drawing, but last night I found time to work on this week's class assignment, finishing an exercise begun in class on Wednesday. Using the grid system, our job is to reproduce a black-and-white image with charcoal and eraser.

Plexiglass with grid over part of original

Beginning to reproduce section above

Face appearing...

Almost there....

I have my work cut out for me, that's obvious. Still, I wouldn't call this attempt a total failure. And best of all, the longer I worked, the more the work began to feel like a drawing-as-meditation and the happier I was to be right there, not thinking about anything else.

I call it done -- and will see what instructor says!

Onions Again

 The day before the onions, I tried a box of Kleenex. My drawing was not a complete disaster, just falling down slightly when it came to perspective. Okay, I need to work on perspective, especially with straight, architectural lines. On the other hand, those things don't do much for my soul. It's the more irregular, organic shapes (and colors) that put the hand that holds my pencil in a place of serenity as well as effort. Not a contradiction. Focusing outward, one loses the self. Physical work can be meditation, and doing something, e.g., drawing, works better for me than sitting still and trying to "empty" my mind.

I

"Back to the drawing board," after weeks away, starts with the blind contour drawing, the drawing made by looking only at the subject and not at the paper or the lines appearing on it. The point here is to see and to let one's hand transcribe directly from one's eyes.

I decided not to challenge myself with the entire wooden bowl full of onions and garlic but to limit my drawing to a single onion. For me, simplicity of subject can sometimes aid in making my drawing more meditative (although at other times a complex drawing that takes a long time can be very satisfying).

Meditation: Back to Fresh Fruit (Bananas)

Part II of Elizabeth Abeel's class called "Seeing as an Artist Sees" (or, as we sometimes call it more simply, "Drawing") focuses on charcoal drawing, which we'll begin this coming Wednesday. For practice this past week, however, it was still work at home with pencil, and Betsy suggested we revisit contour drawing. So I went back to fruit as a subject for the blind contour drawing below. If you'll recall, a blind contour drawing means you're only looking at the subject -- in this case, the bananas -- and not at your paper and pencil. 

We had company over the weekend, so rather than attempt a finished drawing of the entire bunch of bananas I drew only one and called it good for one morning. It does feel good to be drawing again. What will the messy charcoal experience feel like? Stay tuned to find out!

Finally, Back to the Drawing Board: Butter Dish

After laboring over the close work of trying to duplicate abstract sketches, training for the eye more than the hand, I needed the relief of drawing something real. My need to practice on a daily basis is obvious! (The little doodly thing in the upper-righthand corner was a drawing of a head of garlic.) And it's clear, too, that I really need the abstract duplication exercises, as that focuses on proportion, one of my weakest points in drawing.

Meditation: A Sheep for the Little Prince

This well-worn, wobbly stuffed animal has been a pet of mine for many years (though not as many as you might suppose), and I thought it would be a nice change from drawing fruit and vegetables. David was skeptical. “It has no definition, no strong lines. It’s going to be very difficult.” But since there’s no such thing as a failed meditation, I went ahead and made the attempt.

Antoine de St.-Exupery’s classic book, The Little Prince, opens with the little prince asking the pilot in the desert to draw him a sheep. (He has his reasons.) My little stuffed animal always reminds me of the pilot’s initial efforts. It’s why I adopted him in the first place.

Meditation: Small Mammal Skull (Minus Lower Jaw)

Subject

Pure Contours

Final Drawing

Meditation: Stuffed Fish (Not Edible)

Subject

Not a gilded lily on our bathroom wall but a gilded fish. I've been thinking about drawing it for a while now and finally got at it. Wanted to draw with a freer hand, though. Big lines, no erasing. Here's how it turned out.

Pure contour

Pure contour didn't leave room on the sheet of paper for the fish's head, while final drawing (you can see first, abandoned sketch underneath the final) left out the tail. I'll probably return to this subject in the future.

Final drawing

Surprising Obsession and Yearning

My five-pear meditation on Thursday morning was satisfying at the time. That is, it did its work as meditation. Somehow, though, I didn’t feel I’d caught the essence of the pears, and the next morning I drew a single pear over and over and over.

I like the sketchy, not overworked effect of the last drawing, but I still felt something was missing, and I realized I had begun to yearn for --

color! Satisfied for years with only pencil or black ink pen, I am surprised to find a hunger for color growing in me. Fortunately, the little beginner's art kit David gave me for Christmas – what? ten years ago? – includes, along with pencils, colored pencils and pastel sticks. So "back to the drawing board" on Friday evening was a move made with new tools.

This is a big (though still quiet) leap for me to take, and I’m not sure what 2014 will manifest, in terms of my drawing experiments. Perhaps there will be more expeditions into color; on the other hand, there may well be a retreat to monochrome. It doesn’t matter. It’s all just part of looking, seeing, and trying things out. And however obsessive I become over the day's subject, the meditative practice of drawing continues to provide a calm oasis in my world.