Drawing day thirty-two
Drawing day thirty-three
Drawing day thirty-fourI've been drawing but time has been at a premium since school started up again - I suspected the frequency of posting would decline as classes occupied me :)
Woo, tiring going back! I hate the alarm clock, I hate getting out of bed, but once I'm up I'm rarin' to go. We haven't done very much practical hands on work this week, mostly talking about expectations for this first semester, and setting up administrative stuff. Except for painting today, when we actually got the paint brushes out and applied paint to paper.
On portraits, ugh. Of each other. I loathed painting self portraits last year (I think I'll burn mine and mix the ashes into paint to use on something else!) and portraits of the class aren't much better. Have I mentioned I suck at painting? Oh, and have I also mentioned how much I dislike painting? We did some preliminary drawings then worked up a portrait including aspects of the drawings we liked. I liked the chunkiness of my pastel drawing using tone but no line, so tried to replicate that in paint.
Ew. I swear, I whined and bitched and wandered disconsolately about the studio for an hour, trying to get inspiration from what everone else was doing, in between bouts of daubing half-heartedly at my own painting. The brush wouldn't do what I wanted (as I moaned and groaned endlessly), so Tony (the teacher) slapped a palette knife in my hand and forced me back to work. Yuck, didn't like that either, the paint just sat there in big boring slabs no matter how much I poked at it.
Finally I lost my temper with it. I dragged out my ginormous housepainting brush, stabbed it into the paint and went a bit Rolf Harris on the portrait. Slash. Slash, slash, stab, slice. Swoop, slash, slosh the brush brutally around in the water jar and dash in some washy shadows. Stab and slash at it a bit more. Ten minutes and I was done.
I stood back and looked at it. Hmmm, I think I like it. Yes. It works. I do like it!
Apparently all I needed to do was get angry with the paint and treat it mean :)
Woo, tiring going back! I hate the alarm clock, I hate getting out of bed, but once I'm up I'm rarin' to go. We haven't done very much practical hands on work this week, mostly talking about expectations for this first semester, and setting up administrative stuff. Except for painting today, when we actually got the paint brushes out and applied paint to paper.
On portraits, ugh. Of each other. I loathed painting self portraits last year (I think I'll burn mine and mix the ashes into paint to use on something else!) and portraits of the class aren't much better. Have I mentioned I suck at painting? Oh, and have I also mentioned how much I dislike painting? We did some preliminary drawings then worked up a portrait including aspects of the drawings we liked. I liked the chunkiness of my pastel drawing using tone but no line, so tried to replicate that in paint.
Ew. I swear, I whined and bitched and wandered disconsolately about the studio for an hour, trying to get inspiration from what everone else was doing, in between bouts of daubing half-heartedly at my own painting. The brush wouldn't do what I wanted (as I moaned and groaned endlessly), so Tony (the teacher) slapped a palette knife in my hand and forced me back to work. Yuck, didn't like that either, the paint just sat there in big boring slabs no matter how much I poked at it.
Finally I lost my temper with it. I dragged out my ginormous housepainting brush, stabbed it into the paint and went a bit Rolf Harris on the portrait. Slash. Slash, slash, stab, slice. Swoop, slash, slosh the brush brutally around in the water jar and dash in some washy shadows. Stab and slash at it a bit more. Ten minutes and I was done.
I stood back and looked at it. Hmmm, I think I like it. Yes. It works. I do like it!
Apparently all I needed to do was get angry with the paint and treat it mean :)
1 comment:
E, I just love the tribalism of your drawings! Makes me want to stitch them!
Terri x
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