Green Glass

Moving along

Having a little trouble getting back up to speed.  The last couple weeks have been full of sniffles, coughing, house chores, car pool, and knitting.  Knitting can be done with my head back.  Most painting requires a certain forward tilt which activates a pounding headache.

Above I was playing with a limited palette.  I love the idea of a limited palette.  Very romantic.  And easy to cart around.  A spectrum of essential colors mixed out of three or four from a small mint tin.  Love it.

That is when I'm not being seduced by the sheer decadence and luscious extravagance of an overflowing palette selection.

I waffle. I indulge.  No one say anything or I'll sneeze on you.

Poor me, cue the violins

I have a head cold.

First, I got some sleep, then I got busy busy busy.  Then I got this head cold.

Whine whine whine.  Like the wheels of an unoiled bike.

I was inspired by a life is good shirt but I'm not showing it because then you'd realize what a hack version it is and we wouldn't want that.

I'm going back to bed.

And then I had to stop because I was laughing so hard

Yes,  I am still doing selfies.

 

The fact that many of them don't look like me does not bother me one whit.  I consider them alternate personalities.  Some of them I think I'd like to meet.  Some of them I'm not so sure.

The other night I had a bit of fun, taking my glasses on and off.  I should do fewer of these in the middle of the night.  Things tend to sag and the shadows come out.  That's what I tell myself.  And then that night, I took the glasses off altogether.

I felt like it, but I didn't do it

Three years ago, when I first started sketching, I started with my cats.  I love line drawings of cats.  I love watercolors of cats.  I love cats, but more than (or as much as) that, I love the grace and fluidity of their form.  For all of that, I don't sketch them as often as I should.  Maybe because the one often looks like a meatloaf.

A very dignified meatloaf, but a meatloaf none the less.  But recently, my other cat, who has  ventured downstairs now that she sees that she might not get eaten/attacked by our dog, did a little life drawing posing session.

I mustered on, but occasionally I felt like throwing my pen at her.

When you fall in love

I can't seem to sleep through the night.  Which I find very annoying and not a little discombobulating during the day.  I used to be the best sleeper I knew, but then pregnancy, babies, family illness,...  I want to go back to the dead to the world sleep.  Of course, when I slept like that I wanted to be less of a sleeper, but really what I want is to sleep less and wake feeling refreshed, instead of the zombie form I take.

So anyway, I woke the other night and decided to play with the new paint I got.  I keep trying new colors.  I'm addicted, which sounds bad when I put it that way.

I know, I know, I know that painting is not about having a glut of paint color choices.  I know it's about what you do with what you have and that people do fabulous work learning to use what they have and that it's all about doing and not staring at color swatches.  I know that with my heart and soul.  Really, I do.

But still.

I saw the Blue Apatite in the Daniel Smith display and I was overcome.  It was not on my list.  I'd carefully prepared the colors I wanted to try out.  I had planned.

But still.

When you fall in love, all sense leaves your head.  Has that not been proven?

And when you wake in the middle of the night, for the nth night in a row, isn't it a good thing that something as simple as a tube of paint makes your heart sing?

So I decided to sketch this imaginary parlor (it's a parlor, not a living room), without my glasses, because who needs to see what you're doing?  And just to set the record straight, without my glasses (which I have worn every day since I was four and a half - true life) or my glasses (which I need to find the bathroom so I can put my contact in) I need to be about two inches from the paper to focus my eye/eyes.  Because sometimes I can only use one or the other I'm so close.

And the other thing I've done is print up some pictures of my when-they-were -little-people.  So I leave you with this.

 

 

 

Post perfection

Pears have a short perfection time.  If you hit it right - prefection.  I drew this pear and then had to go away for a couple days.  When I came back - past perfection.  So sad.

Glad I had a chance to immortalize it.

Been down with a bit of a bug.  Hopefully on the mend.

i only got fussy around the ears

Three page spreads, three examples of where I am.  The first one is an example of frustration.  I chaperoned one of my daughters to a get together at a restaurant, but it turned out that all the other parents just dropped off their child so there I was, the only adult at a long table with eight 14-year olds at one end and me at the other.  My daughter texted me, "you can leave if you want to" because speaking out loud to me would have been too mortifying, apparently.  But instead of leaving (because I hadn't eaten yet), I sat and sketched.  Only my pen didn't like the paper, and I didn't have enough water or the right brush for what I wanted to do, and I was too impatient.

So the next day, while I was watching something on TV, I sat and sketched this from a photo I took last summer.  I may add color, but what I enjoyed was slowing down.  This was the opposite side of the page above, and the finish was smoother - more hot press than cold.  This time my pen didn't jump around (or was it me?).   I let myself edit what I included (as opposed to the restaurant there I threw in everything).

And then later still I did these portraits of my companions.

I used a new pen with water-soluble ink, and had only got fussy around the ears.  

Editing and focus.  And a calm center.  That's what I'm working on.

Full of attitude

When I want to, I can come up with a lot to complain about.  For example, last night I sliced my finger open while cleaning out some toiletries in a couple tubs where people had dropped them (rather than into the trash which was inches away) and hadn't capped their old disposable razor blades.  

But I choose to look the other way.  My tetanus shot is up to date.  I refuse to wash dishes until it is healed but can manage to peck out this post.  I'm just full of attitude.

Plus in my mind I'm in the middle of lake watching the herons glide overhead.

Eye am fascinating

I have taken to making a selfie almost daily.  I say almost - I try to avoid daily challenges since that seems the shortest route to causing chaos in my life.  Nothing seems to spark crisis faster than signing up for a daily whatever.  However, I love the thought of what those challenges can provide - focus!  At their best they provide the chance to really jump in and explore something - a theme, a medium, whatever.  Somehow I have fallen backwards into these selfies I am really getting to know my face.  I don't have a lot of mirrors in my house, so having one perched in front of me is a kind of alarming shift.  Apparently I don't brush my hair nearly enough.

 

It's hard to smile at myself as I draw, so mostly I look kind of grim.  Which is, I guess, my neutral facial expression.  Wouldn't want to meet me in a dark alley.

Keeping the hand in motion

The yak yak below doesn't really relate to this drawing, but although I like this sketch, I have nothing of note to say about it.  I was waiting on a friend, there was a lamp with an interesting base.  Bada Bing, the moleskine came out.

Unrelated to any of that, I spent this last weekend soccering.  Second tournament weekend in a row but only one player, not two, and the H wasn't on call, so MUCH calmer.

As usual I brought my sketch bag and as usual didn't need it.  Parents to chat with, other games to watch (stress free), even closing my eyes for a moment (didn't sleep the night before).

Anyway, watching the game I was picking on my daughters'  play (in my head) thinking she needed to do a lot more running.  Not just in that game, but outside of her normal practice in order to build up her speed and endurance.  She's switched positions this year, and this one involves a GREAT deal more running.  

Let me just say, whatever goes on in my head, my daughter sets the tone for what she actually does.  I can advice (I am invited to advice) but she does an amazingly good job at setting priorities and following through on them.  So I have learned that if there is something she 'should' be doing and isn't, there is a reason which will be revealed.  LIke early on in a game getting a ball rocketed into her gut which took a while to recover from but which inattentive mommy missed.  Things like that.  She's a smart girl.  I give her credit.

 

But that is not the point of this.  All of the above is just to say how I was thinking about practicing.  Practicing when you don't feel like practicing.  Practicing when you feel you aren't doing well.  To my daughter, in discussion, I said, 'you just need to keep your legs moving, even if you don't feel there is a direct purpose.  BUt people will know that you are ready.  Standing still does not draw the ball."  And as I was saying these things to her, I was having another conversation in my head.  I need to keep the pen moving, whether I feel like it's productive or not.  I just need to stay in motion and be ready.  Lots more sketches, regardless.

When I was in High School (back in the long ago pre digital day) I got my first SLR camera.  Film and developing was expensive and so I was careful with every shot.  I rarely took an unfocussed picture.  I hated to waste film since it was so costly.   I love the photos I did take, but I was a patient stalker.  

I believe a have that residue of thinking when I start to sketch.  I want to think it will be worth it.  But I'm only expending a bit of paint and paper.  I need to practice way more. Just keep the pen moving.  Use the brush, Don't sweat the paper. As simple as that.  More isn't better, but it keeps the hand moving and in shape.

So then I did this.  The Chaos of my room.  Lots to keep the hand busy.