Home » Posts tagged 'illustration' (Page 3)

Tag Archives: illustration

Taking It Easy…

I had planned on taking it a little easy today after my marathon crafting and painting. It is also the first day of my self-imposed fume free week. Taking it easy wasn’t so easy. Actually it was forced on me and not in an enjoyable way. I woke at three o’clock this morning not feeling well. Something I ate last night did not agree with me. I’ve spent the majority of the day on the couch sleeping on and off. Only nine more days until I hit the one year mark on this project, and today like others before it when I didn’t feel well, I’m pushing through to get something up. Pen and ink is the obvious choice, no fumes and completely doable while sitting on the couch. I can’t promise much for this evening, but I promise something.

As for yesterday’s show, I think I’ve finally learned my lesson. I had a nice comment and some suggestions from a fellow blogger which I agree with. I know there must be a way to discover some local art shows. We do have a local art society. I checked it out a couple of years ago but then never followed through.  I think at the time I didn’t have enough confidence to put myself and my work out there. I feel like I’m ready to try again.

So here is my very little piece of art that I doodled for tonight.

4 6 14

 

 

Compromises

There are times as an artist when you feel the need to bend just a bit on artistic integrity. By that I mean working for the almighty dollar instead of for the love of the art. That is where I will be for the next two weeks. I have a show in two weeks at a charter school. I have some pieces ready to go, but not nearly as much as I’d like to have, and these days I need the cash. I have so many small wood boxes and pieces sitting around that I’ve been meaning to get to. Now is the time. I’d like to head in to the show with at least fifty painted wood pieces. It would mean a lot for me to contribute to our dwindling finances. I’m sure many people who know me and some who don’t wonder why at this point I haven’t gotten a job. Three reasons. The first is that Dan hasn’t wanted me to. The second is that I never finished college. I was married, working full-time, and attending night classes when I discovered I was pregnant with Jessica. I was roughly a year from graduating and made the decision to leave school. I had never really figured out exactly what I wanted to do anyway, but I did know that I wanted to be a mother. Now I find myself in the position of not being qualified for anything other than standing on my feet, and when you’ve had six knee surgeries that’s a problem. Finally, I quit my last “time clock” job twenty years ago, again it was about being a mother. Brian was three, Jessica was nine, and I felt the need to be home with them. I’ve made money here and there since then with my art, but the truth is that I’m completely intimidated. Years ago my Mom said that the longer you stay out of work the harder it is to go back. She was right. I know that I’ve mentioned our business that we hope to open, but that will be a work of joy. A dream come true, and of course Dan will be at my side, and that makes me feel invincible. So this is the work I can do, and when I say I’m doing it for the money it in no way means it won’t be my best work. I always do my best.

The piece I’m working on tonight is for a child’s room. A small toy box dedicated to reading. I think instilling the love of books is one of the greatest gifts a child can receive. Each panel of this box will feature a beloved character from a book. I am usually so respectful and careful not to copy the work of others, but this is a one of a kind, one time use, and done in great admiration for the people who created these characters. Only the two end panels are started. The piece had to be sanded and primed first. I’ll post the finished box tomorrow.

IMG_6403 IMG_6404IMG_6405

The Price Of Impatience

Posted on by | Leave a comment

Twenty four hours have passed. Where is my second box? I didn’t wait long enough. I know, I know, I said I would, but the impatient me just couldn’t wait. I ruined it. I did wait twelve hours, so I thought it would be OK, nope. I had to start again. This time I absolutely promise to wait, maybe even forty-eight hours.

I love spring. When you grow up in a place that has harsh winter weather the first day of spring is cause for celebration. There’s nothing to beat those early warmer days. I’ve lived in Southern California for ten plus years and I still miss the change of seasons. I don’t of course miss the frigid weather, or the ice and snow. I have to admit it is pretty nice to have seventy degree weather in January, but I miss the feelings that come with the change. I think maybe for me spring seemed a little more hopeful when it came after a hard winter. We need new beginnings around here. Let’s hope the new season ushers some in.

In honor of the new season a drawing of an Iris done in watercolor pencil. I chose to paint the background black to make the colors pop.

3 21 14

Feverish Perspective

Still on the mend, but slowly feeling better. I wanted to do something today for my Dad for St. Patrick’s Day. In 1956 he left Ireland with all the big dreams that young men have. Heading to Canada in the bottom of a ship, taking a chance on a better life. My Mom followed about three months later. He was just short of his twenty-fourth birthday, my Mom was only nineteen. I can’t imagine the courage it took to leave home and family, to leave everything they knew, and jump head first into the vast unknown. Then just four years later to do it yet again and move to Chicago. Another new country, starting over, except that this time they did it with two children and a third on the way. Amazing. Happy St. Patrick’s Day Dad.

My brain is still foggy from my head cold, and this relentless fever, my perspective is again my own private torment, but it’s St. Patrick’s Day, so this one’s for Dad. He grew up above his grandmother’s fruit and vegetable store on Dominick Street in Dublin. I saw it once many, many years ago. I don’t remember much so most of this is imagined, with the inspiration coming from a watercolor book on Ireland. Finally, to end this post a little tale to amuse one and all. The little tree wasn’t in my original sketch. There was a man on a bench. (Before I continue remember that I am delusional with a low-grade fever.) When I was just about finished I realized that he was so out of scale, so out of perspective, that he looked like one of the “wee” folk, you know a leprechaun. I turned him into a bush. Artistic improvisation at its best.

3 17 14

The Fever Rages On

I’m alive! Well sort of. I still have a heavy head and a fever, but things seem to be moving in the right direction, although my couch does bear the imprint of my body. I lay here all day imaging the things I would be doing if I felt better. Of course if I actually did feel better I probably wouldn’t be doing any of them. I did feel sorry enough for myself to indulge in an ice cream drumstick, something I cannot afford, but I’m sick so I deserve a treat. (Right?) I talked to my Dad a couple of times in the last few days. He can be quite a character. He could hear that I was ill, shout, “Go to bed!”, into the phone, and then talk to me for another ten or fifteen minutes. He also offered his best medical advice. “Do you have any whiskey? You need a small glass of whiskey. That will take care of everything.” I still remember as a teen having the family concoction of tea, whiskey, and honey as the remedy for a sore throat. Horrid stuff. Last night I took Niquil. I am not usually a fan of sleeping medications, and for good reason. Let’s just say when I watched Walking Dead tonight I could relate. The stuff not only knocks me cold all night, but most of the next day I’m fairly close to a drug induced coma.

I based my watercolor tonight on a photo from a magazine. It was most likely inspirational due to the amount of tea I have consumed in the last few days. (No, not with whiskey.) Again working with a fever, my excuse for my as usual not so great perspective (but its true!), but not too bad for someone still battling a head cold. I just realized that my photo is slightly out of focus. Photo courtesy of Niquil.

3 16 14

Raising The White Flag

Posted on by | Leave a comment

I’m not actually raising a flag, in reality it’s a white tissue. A head cold, not a full on head cold because I strangely only get colds in half of my head at one time. Tonight it is the right side, a single watery eye, sneezing, the works, and my head feels about twenty pounds heavier. So this is it for the night, my sketch of my new best friend whose name is “Kleenex”.

3 14 14

Inspired Amusement

Be careful what you wish for. Well I didn’t exactly wish for it, but last night I mentioned I’ve only missed one day in the last year due to illness. At 3:30 this morning I woke with a horrific earache and sore throat. I’ve spent most of the day lying around and really thought I had jinxed myself and would miss my project tonight. A quick cat nap and dinner prepared by my wonderful husband, and I found myself able to function once again. We spent most of the day yesterday in Los Angeles. My nephew lives in Echo Park, and my sister was in for a visit. The architecture in downtown LA is amazing. As much as I’ve grown to love Temecula, I am a city girl at heart. I want to spend a day there just photographing architectural detail. There is an amazing place there called The Last Bookstore. Well worth checking out on-line just to see the incredibly clever art entirely made from books. Dan and I are both horrible book fiends, we have a shared addiction for them. I picked up two books yesterday that both focused on pen and ink. One was a book about illustrated borders. The other is a book on the amazing work of Jean-Ignace-Isidore Grandville (1803-1847). The book contains 266 illustrations from “Un Autre Monde” and “Les Animaux”. In English, “Another World”, and the other section, Les Animaux, which consists of metamorphoses of animals, giving the animals human emotions. The drawings are delightful, and I couldn’t help but be inspired by them. They made me smile. I decided to draw my own “Grandville”. One of my cats, Riley, was kind enough to pose for me (at least her head). Riley sometimes looks lost in thought and gets quite annoyed when we bother her. She is very vocal in letting her displeasure be known. Here is Riley dressed to go to town, looking very bothered my interruption.

3 13 14 1

The Time Nears

The year nears its end. On April 13th, 2013 I began what I thought was an insurmountable task, 365 days of art and writing. I can finally see the finish line of my personal marathon. What a year. Started only a week after my daughter’s wedding (Happy almost-Anniversary Jessica and John!), I have seen my daughter happier than ever, my son Brian moving out to begin his adult life, and my Dad moving into what will most likely be his last home. Of course there is also the fact that Dan and I are struggling. Not on a personal level, this year has made us closer than ever, but it has now been nearly a year since he lost his job, that’s a tough one. I had imagined big changes in the course if this project but never anything like this. As a result I haven’t dedicated as much time to this project as I would have liked, but there were other very important priorities. Dan has always been my rock, my greatest champion, and the best thing that ever happened to me. It has been my turn, my honor to try to be the same for him. A couple of people have asked what’s next for me.  I’m not sure. I will admit it will feel nice to take a night off because with the exception of a case of pneumonia, I haven’t done so for a year. I do think that this project has become such a part of my daily routine that it will seem odd without it. I won’t quit writing, and I’ll never quit art. I have a month to think about what to do next.

A year ago I wouldn’t be as confident as I now in my abilities. I was very hung up on not having any kind of artistic training, now I’m not sure I’d want it. I think I do OK on my own. I certainly wouldn’t have posted this rough sketch of Otis, the mischievous Puggle of Jessica and John, but I actually love this. A simple line drawing in pen.

3 12 14

Leave My Clock Alone

Spring back, Fall ahead. My head is spinning. I have had insomnia since birth. My parents tried everything to get me to sleep. Crushed sleeping pill and sugar mixed together on a spoon? Check. Shots of Chianti for a nine-year old? Check. They really did try everything, it just didn’t work. When I wanted a day off school all I had to do is pretend to sleep, my Mother thought I was ill. I still struggle nightly. I rarely if ever sleep through the night. I hate DST, you know Daylight Savings Time. I hate it so much that I refuse to reset the clock in my truck. I leave it be, my stubborn silent protest. Not that I don’t enjoy a little extra sunlight, and lovely summer evenings. I just want it to stay that way all of the time. I know it sucks when people have to get up early to go to work and it’s still dark out. I did it for many, many years. I would sit on the edge of the bathtub at five a.m. and bemoan my fate. I would actually moan aloud saying, “Nobody should have to get up this early.” The unfortunate thing for me is that when the sun comes up so do my eyelids, no matter what time I hit the sack. (I believe I may have been a rooster in another life.) This whole DST throws me off my game. It takes me weeks and weeks to adjust. In the mean time I wander through my day struggling to keep my eyes open, not to mention that when I’m tired, I’m hungry, not a good combination for me. That is when “you deserve this, you’re tired” makes an appearance. That is “not good enough’s” roommate in my brain. (Yes, there are voices in my head, most of them are very nice and offer fairly good advice.) I actually Googled DST, long boring explanation followed, I will not share, bore yourself if you must. So here I am after ten in the evening, which was actually nine just days ago. It is almost time for bed, but I’m not tired. I could stay up (I am sort of a grown up), but in the morning when the sun rises at seven a.m. my eyelids will open, and I will inwardly weep for the hour of sleep that is lost.

Today I had a really great compliment. I happened to run into Mia, whose portrait I have been working on. I also had my sketchbook on hand. I opened to Mia’s portrait and showed it to her, and asked if she knew who it was. “It’s Mia.” My day was made. When a two-year old can recognize them self in your work I think that’s pretty awesome. I worked on Mia’s portrait again tonight. She is just too cute to be shades of gray.3 11 14

Words Of Wisdom

There’s something I’ve been meaning to write about for a few days now. Last week Dan showed me a You Tube video of Lupita Nyong’o making a speech at Essence Magazine’s Black Women in Hollywood luncheon. For those of you who might not know who Lupita is, just a week ago she won an Oscar for Best Actress in a Supporting Role for her work in Twelve Years A Slave. She is of Mexican and Kenyan heritage, and she is beautiful. As I listened to the emotional speech made by this insightful, intelligent, and lovely young women, I was astonished at her wisdom. She spoke of the seduction of inadequacy. Feelings that I am quite familiar with. She is a very dark-skinned young woman, and I am about as pasty white as they come. (I have been known to joke from time to time that I am not Caucasian, I am see-through.) In her speech she spoke of the pain of her childhood, of being ashamed, of wanting to be different. It is unfortunately a pain that I think all young people are familiar with, unless of course through genetic gifts they are blessed with what our society deems “perfection”. There are very few that fit that description, and yet I would bet that most if not all would be the first to point out flaws they find with themselves. I am old enough to be Lupita’s mother, but I learned much from listening to her eloquent words. What a shame that we have all been so convinced that there is something wrong with us. That we have the wrong hair, eye color, body type, skin color, and so on. I am an older woman. I am aging OK, not as bad as some, and not as good as others. As I listened to Lupita’s speech it was like listening to my own often mentioned “not good enough” voice that resides in my brain. I write of that voice in association with my art, but it is a far-reaching voice, and it can be very loud. I still struggle with self acceptance at my age. I think we could all learn a lesson from the gifted Lupita, and I think if you are a parent of a young girl or boy, there are lessons to be taught as well. If you have the time and inclination the video is well worth listening to.  Just go to You Tube and put “Lupita’s Essence speech” in the search engine. I guarantee its five minutes that will make you think.

I was tired today. Spring forward my…(more about that tomorrow) Despite feeling tired I worked on finishing the room formerly known as Brian’s. In the end I did a small pen and ink of some Lily of the Valley. A favorite of mine that I haven’t seen since my last Chicago Spring ten years ago. The drawing was inspired by an old tin from Crabtree and Evelyn. When I was finished I decided to add a little color. Two photos, one without color and one with.

3 10 14 (2)

 3 10 14 (1)