On the easel.
My whole town in rural, prairie ridden Canada has been completely photographed by Google for their Street View product. Good for a homesick gal like myself who can’t actually bring herself to shell out the cash for a plane ticket home.
This one image is fascinating and to me looks like a Winogrand photo.
Spent some time hiking and enjoying good company in Fort Washington, MD. I also achieved a gash on my leg, which I’m told, should have been stitched, but I held off the doctor visit until it had already started healing. The drawing was done after the fact, from memory, so it lacks the details I like. I think the spot deserves more attention and I hope to be back soon to sit and draw in real time.
Once a fixture of every small town in the Canadian prairie, these classic buildings have been disappearing with the advent of cheap and convenient transportation options. Seeing these buildings reminds me of a place that is now far away in both distance and time.
A quick card for a coworker’s daughters sixth birthday. I was told later that Lauren carried the card in her hands all evening and was amazed that it had her name on it. When I make a card from someone I always write that it was handmade specifically for them and I hope that as Lauren gets older that the card will take on more significance.
Simply an ink wash over a sketchbook page. The Hand-made sketchbook pages are generally thick enough to handle water without buckling, but in this case I must have used a lot of water. Oh well, I love the effect of ink thinned out into a wash and it’s too bad the paper couldn’t handle it.
Welcome to the world Rachel, we’re going to do our best to make it a better place for you.
I have owned two pairs of Bose headphones; this is the second pair. They are broken on the headband. Still usable and great sound, but a shame that there seems to be a flaw in the design that makes them break in exactly the same spot.
Sunglasses on my desk in the mid-afternoon. Later in the evening while I was installing Leopard and had the sketchbook open to this drawing. The little cat, Akari, was on my desk and I noticed her swiping at the drawing with her paw. I’m not sure why she did this, but it’s interesting to think that she thought that the drawing was a real pair of sunglasses.
Some studies that I made while we were at a little winery outside of Charlottesville, Virginia.
A study in my usual pen and ink style. Loose lines, some detail, but I wanted more.
A second study where I was just intending to draw the far mountain. There’s lots and lots of little lines here making up my drawing
A first watercolor try for this subject. Loose, but I like the spontaneous feeling.
The second watercolor. By this time I was feeling a little bored by the subject and consequently this is the study I liked least. I may go back and do some more with this subject, but I’m going to wait a little while before then.
The scale of this pencil is like one of those huge novelty pencils that you used to get as gifts from aunts and uncles who had just returned from places like Aruba.
Lines like waves on an ocean. I really love the crisp, clean lines from a pen.
There seems to be only two images of Robert Johnson online–the one I used as a reference for my previous drawing and the one I used as a reference for this drawing. So iconographic, yet so elusive.
Here’s what Wikipedia has to say about Robert Johnson:
Robert Leroy Johnson (May 8, 1911 – August 16, 1938) is among the most famous Delta Blues musicians. His landmark recordings from 1936-37 display a remarkable combination of singing, guitar skills, and songwriting talent that have influenced generations of musicians. Johnson’s shadowy, poorly documented life and violent death at age 27 have given rise to much legend.
I certainly remember this piece of folklore:
Johnson began traveling up and down the Delta, traveling by bus, hopping trains, and sometimes hitchhiking. According to Blues folklore, Robert Johnson was a young black man living on a plantation in rural Mississippi. Branded with a burning desire to become a great blues musician, he was instructed to take his guitar to a crossroad near Dockery’s plantation at midnight. There he was met by a large black man (the Devil) who took the guitar from Johnson, tuned it, and handed it back to him.
A few months ago, when my commute was sometimes over three hours long, I was heavily into watching video on my iPod. I’d watch everything from Lost to 30 Rock to The Office. Jacob wasn’t so much into Lost or The Office and I never gave him a chance to like or dislike 30 Rock so I just watched them on the train. These days my commute is much shorter so I’m not watching as much video on the train as you can’t really get into a show when your train ride is only fifteen or twenty minutes. It looks like I’m going to have to find a way to watch some of my favorite shows the old fashioned way, on the boob-tube.