This presented me with a problem- I love problems. Problems are like puzzles that need solving. They are motivational. So I was happy I had this problem.

My problem was that 1. I do not like to paint impressionistically. 2. I have just begun to wrap my brain around painting figures… sans clothing. Unless our ballerinas were going to be naked… {unlikely} … I was going to have to practice with some tule.

Part 1. of The Problem was solved by ignoring it. I don’t paint in Degas’ style, so tough cookies for Degas. I’m doing things my way.

Part 2. was solved when our beloved model lent me one of her tutu layers for me to take home and study. YES! Score!

Here are some sketches and studies I made while coming up with my compositions. Note: each sketch was completely in 30 minutes or less in front of our model. Some of them I liked as simple drawings and nothing more, so I let them be. Others I decided to play around with, and those are the ones that made it into paintings.

more later…

Detail photo of "Prelude", oil on canvas, 14" x 11" / *SOLD*

Well I did it! I participated in my first group show.

Part of me can’t believe it really happened, I’ve been figure drawing and oil painting for less than a year, after all. It feels like I walked in to my first drawing session five minutes ago.

And another part of me is all WHEE! Do Again!

If you happen to be in Fredericksburg and want to see my paintings, you can view them at the downtown library in the atrium. I’ve been out of town, so I apologize for not writing about it here sooner but if you hurry, they’ll be up for another two weeks before the show closes.

And if you can’t make it, here’s a sneaky peak of what I created! (including the painting above, which I sorta accidentally deleted the full photos of. So, you know, full shot coming later. Woops.)

"Young Woman" , oil on canvas , 8" x 8" (click to enlarge)

Detail photo of "Rehearsal" , oil on canvas , 20" x 24" (click to en-biggen)

Rehearsal , oil on canvas , 20" x 24" (click for a larger)

That’s deep, y’all. I need to make a note to put it in my artist’s statement.

2" x 3" portrait of my oldest punk

Shadows make shapes, edges, depth and drama. I could write several books just on shadows, they are that important.

the oldest punk again, this time in a digital sketch from a photo reference.

If  you’re a photographer, you avoid shady areas because the camera works best when it’s given lots lof light.

You are not a camera. You are a sketcher, a smoosher of paint and a scribbler of pencils. Your eyes are way more sophisticated than a photographer’s tools, and you can see in the shady bits just fine.

This is my baby. I drew him in pencil too.

Look for the shadows first when you look for something to draw.

Elsewhere on the internets:

James Gurney’s book Color and Light is the best I have ever read in regards to shadows… and light. Since, really, you can’t have one without the other. Buy eet! You will love eet! (BTW, if you buy it through that link, Amazon gives me some pennies without adding on any cost to you. But I recommend you buy it even if you don’t use that link. Or find it at your library. Or tell your prof to buy it and then borrow it from him and forget to return it. It’s that good.)

Gurney’s website is also chock-full of information. It’s one of my always-read-first blogs and it’s definitely worth digging through the archives.

Drawing hair is really gross.
Drawing hair I hate the most.

-Willy Wonka. (sort of.)

In case I haven’t mentioned it this week, I’m not much of a fan of drawing hair.

You can over simplify things, in which case your subject will look like Ken.

Not everyone wants to look like Ken, people.

Or you can spend hours working on the fiddly little  details, reminding viewers that they need to pick up a bottle of drano and a new plunger so they can unclog their daughter’s bathroom sink when they get home from work.

Drawing hair  means practicing your balance. Specifically, it requires will power to stay in there and get just enough detail to be believable, and not so much that it’s a distraction.

Until we heard the coopers hawk fly by. Then it’s not so nice.

(That was a fast adventure. Now it’s time to run around on the wheel. Much less chance of being hawk-snatched there.)

It may seem like fun at the time, but you’ll end up making sloppy mistakes and wasting a lot of paint.

If you absolutely must do the art thing in either of these states then work on something not-important. A life sketch or thumbnail ideas for compositions, but never, ever, ever times infinity- work on an important project while tired.

Save it for when your brain is functioning at 100%.

And- (getting back to what I was originally writing about. Sorry for the bunny trail.) …AND- I realized that another one of my “novel” ideas had already been thought of. Because I am the queen of “discovering” things that other people have known about since Michelangelo asked a giant man to pose for David. My idea was this: plop your thing your object your subject down next to your canvas so that it makes your drawing the same size as your subject and you can focus better on both objects at the same time. DUH, Julie. It’s called sight-size drawing, and, like, everyone does it. (here’s a nifty video of someone using sight-size to make landscapes)

I mean, I knew about cast drawing and all. And about Bargue’s drawings. But the technique commonly used in cast drawings was new to me. Or, I guess, that it had a name was new to me. I’m sure I picked up on it from someone, somewhere.

So anyway. I decided I needed a cast. I already do a lot of still life and figure drawing and whatnot, so I’m doing things way out of order according to most ateliers. But I figured that cast drawing couldn’t hurt me, so why not try it out and see how I could benefit? So I pulled up a few shopping sites looking for casts. Including eBay.

And, y’all? Did you know you could buy a cast of dead Napoleon’s head? Because you can. For 50 bucks you could have Napoleon’s death mask sitting on your mantle. If, you know, you’re into that sort of thing. Which I’m not, really, cause it’s kinda saggy and icky and stuff. I’m not sure I understand the purpose of … you know, that.

But you know what I DO know the purpose of? A casting of Mel Gibson’s head! His LIVE head. Not that I’m a huge Mel Gibson fan. But dang if that wouldn’t be an awesome conversation piece. And I could totally do a cast drawing of that and not be icked out. For the most part. Anyway, who wants to buy me Mel Gibson’s head?? Anyone? Anyone?

OR! Ooo… guys, you know whose head I want even MORE sitting above my mantle? That guy from Princess Bride! The one who said “Gah!” and flapped his arms a lot! He’s my favorite!

Does anyone out there know Wallace Shawn and do you think you could convince him to make a cast of his head? And then send it to me? So I could draw it? Because I would totally rock the HELL outta that drawing. That would be the most fabulous cast drawing anyone has ever made. Eye of David? Pish.

Ahmma gonna do the HEAD OF SHAWN.

You can’t top that business.

One of my favorite still life artists, Jos van Riswick, heard tell that painting on the iPad was the latest/ greatest and decided to give it a go. He’s been kind enough to post the results online. Brilliant! Though he does claim to prefer canvas, you can’t argue that the results aren’t… well… interesting!

…and a billion Apple fans around the world develop synchronized iTwitches, with no notion as to why…