A couple of drawings from the new Moleskine. My last book took three months to fill, which is rather long. I'd like to put in more consistent drawing hours this time. Aaaaaand, I'm putting this photo here to show you how a print of the first in my Red Hand series looks in a frame (super!), and to serve… Continue reading New sketchbook
Here's a piece that I initially intended to (1) sketch quickly in pencil in the Moleskine, and (2) finish -simply- with red watercolor and my new Micron™ pens– high contrast, no shading. Instead, it turned into a rather detailed pencil rendering, finished with several layers/workings of watercolor, and only a few lines with a pen (ears, jawline, eyes). I kinda… Continue reading Don’t see. Don’t speak. | a sketchbook painting
Yesterday was sunnier and milder than forecast. I totaled around ten miles of wandering and walking (the rain did come but only overnight). In the evening met up with a gaggle of friends, some of whom I'd not seen in months. Did some people watching, too, observational sketches. Here's one from last week. George Washington, aka G.… Continue reading sketchbook anthropology
One of Ray's Zagat-rated jukeboxes ...and your host, Sheila
This woman started as a mouth only. This guy began, loosely, as some character in what I was (sort of) watching, but turned out looking like that kid from Waking Life.
Recent days have arrived with excellent weather—sunshine. Birds tracing lazy smiles across the sky. Z and I have been taking advantage of it to wander. While at home the windows have been open wide. We laugh ’til our faces hurt, cackling chickens. In between we talk about real things. Life. Industrial streetscapes of Sunset Park He compliments me… Continue reading Interstitials
Watched the Democratic debate last night, live, on an actual television— while it was happening! (I usually watch next day on my computer machine.) Did a hasty little study of each candidate for fun, for levity.
I stayed past the last tram, so Wouter loaned me his bike and he rode on the back of Brandon’s. Wouter looked so at ease, perched cross-legged and leaning against Brandon’s backpack, whistling some tune. I shouted into the wind. “You look so relaxed!”. Through the rain, “I am relaxed!” and continued whistling.
Put the new set of watercolors to the test last night. Silly stuff; most of these began with lips as the point of departure. Result: a fair amount of drag, androgyny. (For some reason the two on the right turned out looking or seeming very like Fred Armisen.)
A few days ago: one of those anxiety dreams in which what you want eludes you, but all sorts of things (nice, but not what you’re looking for in the dream; trivial or material things) are coming at you easily, unbidden. It’s difficult to wake up from such a dream feeling at ease. Where does… Continue reading little stories
e daggar art: THE MUSEUM 