pixels, light and hot wax

A year or two ago, I began the project of trying to learn how to draw, which was incredibly difficult at the start, went really well for a while, and now has been mostly stalled. Part of the problem in my progress, I think, is that somehow the choice of drawing media became incredibly emotionally charged; subtractive drawing in charcoal spoke to me in the way photography has for decades, and the only other thing that attracted my interest was the splashy lack-of-control that is ink and brush (well, lack of control in my hands, anyway.) These were ways to draw that went with how I see, and with how art making is “supposed” to make me feel, and very very hands-on — in the case of charcoal, usually also nose, chin, arm and other random patches of skin on. The presence of the hand is undeniable, and the process is both tonal and visceral. And we learned to draw what we saw, on really big pieces of paper.

Drawing small is torture. Trying to make line drawings, with precise pen, or worse, pencil is an exercise in frustration that leaves me bitter. (I loathe the feel of pencil on paper. It sets my teeth on edge. I have no idea why.) I know why line is such a struggle — after all these years as a photographer, seeing the world as masses of light and shadow is absolutely intuitive. Drawing from my imagination/memory is just not something I’ve got the skill points to do, at least not any more competently than your average 10 year old.

But if I am ever going to get good enough at drawing to make the pieces in my head, I am going to have to practice drawing a lot more. Every day. And lugging around a pad of 18×24 and my compressed charcoal? Not going to happen. Somehow, I need to find a way to draw that I can stand to practice, that is portable, doesn’t leave me looking like a chimney sweep, and is, if not actually enjoyable in a tactile, at least not actively unpleasant. Tonal would be nice, although I already have started rearranging my budget to acquire the Wacom Inkling, but that’s certainly not going to be an entire answer, especially as part of the point of drawing in the first place was to make art away from the computer.

I first found Mark Reep’s amazingly atmospheric charcoal & ink drawings years ago while looking in the WetCanvas fora for advice on dealing with my newfound love of compressed charcoal. He’s an artist I continually return to for inspiration.

No Earthen Vessel, 2003

I am just blown away by the delicacy of the work, and how much a sense of story and mystery is evoked by these unpeopled vistas.

Loch Morning

Abandoned waterworks 2, Mark Reep, Charcoal, 2007

Rain Tern Waterworks, Year Unknown; Mark Reep, Charcoal and Graphite, 2007

Make sure to look at the Recent Work, and not just the Gallery, when you visit.

And, and he has a blog, too.

It has been crazy busy at Casa Jeliza — mostly doing lots and lots of post-processing for ye old day jobbe.

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I just got e-mail notification that my box is back from Windycon …. 10 minutes after returning from my pobox.

Dangit. And I am suddenly not sure if want to see what is inside, anyway.

ETA: Nope, shouldn’t have looked. I don’t like receiving heavy boxes back from shows. *sigh*

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In more post-worthy news, I finally was able to make it to a life drawing session, which was a very welcome return. My not-so-mad skillz have definitely atrophied a bit in the interim, but not as much as I had feared. And something about having my hands straight-up filthy with charcoal just makes me happy. The model was a bit on the wobbly side (new to figure modeling), and had sadly uninteresting shoulders, though part of that was the my angle on the pose. (I could draw shoulders for days normally, I have no idea why.) Here are two of my favorites (these are quick snaps, not proper shots, or I’ll never get around to posting them…)

Hands. charcoal sketch. 2009.