go figure

I just finished reading "The Undressed Art: Why We Draw" by Peter Steinhart for the third time. It's a book about life drawing, the rituals found in drawing groups, the artists and models who participate. I reread it from time to time when I am teaching, because it reinforces all the facets of this driving urge to draw the figure.

In an illustration class, the nude figure is less necessary. Drawing people in clothing or costume is also a great challenge, especially with elaborate folds and details. I encourage students to bring in props, anything that will add intrigue. And I allow drawing what is there and maybe what is not there. Inventing is appropriate for illustrators.

Of course, someone always brings in a weapon. Our culture is so saturated with violent entertainment, a (toy)gun is a standard prop. This student cleverly turned his pose into an idiomatic gesture, a metaphor for human foibles. One student noted that it was also a political act, to avoid the draft. Here is my quick sketch:



In another class, students posed as Alice in Wonderland characters. I added the mushroom perch, of course.



Here's the Cheshire Cat.



I even posed with a mad hat and a cup that said "drink me." This is Shannon's drawing, which doesn't show the quivering arm of this amateur model.



A hired model in another class brought some interesting costumes of her own. This is Annie, in a graphic skeleton suit.



These drawing sessions provide an opportunity for everyone to capture fashion and mood, in 10 or 15 minutes. I make mine quick, maybe 5 minutes, so I can also circulate among students and offer encouragement.

Practice, practice, practice is the mantra for everyone, including the teacher. Students may think they will be DONE with the learning after they get the degree. It will only have just begun. Every time I pick up a pencil, I am seeking new ground.

Go figure.

lovey dovey

There's nothin' like a valentine to cheer me up. I love makin' em, and I love gettin' 'em. Don't you?

I dusted off the ole gocco machine for this year's edition.



I repurposed a little spot from a book that I illustrated for Storey. Added an embellishment from a chapter heading from Rickshaw Girl and voila. Always fun to try colors combos on different papers.

Why stop there? I brought my handy dandy kit into class, where students were working on a Love Zine project.

Here Devin applies the goopy ink like icing to his master.



Presto: his "Love Life" zine covers!



This project never ceases to amaze me with the sheer variety of responses. From a midnight bus ride, to an alien looking for love on a desolate planet, to mixtape romance memoirs, to stalkers, to sugar addiction, to girls, robots, and pin-ups, the class ran the gamut expressing visual stories of love, with sometimes loveless dimensions.



Now I need to tackle my own love duties.

First, a shout out for Mike and Wanda, my cousins who celebrate their anniversary today.
Love is all you need!

Their daughter, Mati, is the groovy fabricator of this pillow, sewn by Wanda, and delivered with love.

Sweet!

objects of affection

I have a little box in my studio that displays my collection of souvenir cameras and various objects of my affection. I have a thing for starfish and urchin shells, very rare to come across on the rocky shores of Maine. I draw them every chance I get.

This illustration is on the title page of Nest, Nook, and Cranny.



I used this drawing, titled "Urchin Experiment" for a postcard mailer awhile back.
Backstory: I did a lot of diving off the diving board growing up at my parents' Red Doors Motel, where the pool was my spot. No urchins there, though...



When I brought my illustration class last week to the Portland Museum of Art, I was delighted to find a little hall with a BIG cabinet of curiosities.



This was the activity place inside the new Objects of Wonder exhibit of still lifes.
A few of us were like bees on honey, immediately sitting at the stools and fondling little things to sketch.



Opposite the wall of drawing tables, is an arrangement of gold frames that one can slide sketches behind and say: My art is on display at the PMA. Serious fun for all ages.

It was a great cue to head back to my studio and make some pastel pieces of my locations of affection on the island.

This is the entrance to the Trout Pond backshore. The parting in the reeds leads to a much larger pond, perfect for skating.



This pastel is titled "Salty Sky" and features a marsh on the southeast edge of the island that always captures my attention.



Both of these are now in the Think Pink show at the Gem Gallery, an annual love/art fest with a portion of proceeds benefiting the South Portland Breast Cancer Foundation.

Here is gallery owner Kristen Chalmers at the opening, full of pink and red.



Look, more objects of affection! My daughter's fun print, Acorn House, sitting pretty atop a yoyo runner by Kathy Newell.




Puts me in a pink mood, to send out valentines. Be on the lookout for yours!

nook books are here!

Hooray! I got my box of Nest, Nook and Cranny books! O happy Pub Day!

I worked feverishly a year ago on the illustrations for this book of poems by Susan Blackaby. About animal habitats, it was a delicious challenge to immerse myself in the wordplay and my own environment, my radar always on the look out for immediate reference.

The book is punctuated by spreads that define a particular habitat: desert, grassland, shoreline, wetland, and woodland. Except for desert, I could mine my own territory, more or less.

Since there is a beaver colony on Peaks, I thought I could do some direct research. However, they are elusive critters, leaving only their signature chiseled marks on downed trees. Probably why I drew this beaver leaving the picture frame in my first piece for the Wetland spread.



The interior is black and white, but for the spreads, I wanted to play with some paper combinations for a greater range of tonal values. I needed to revise this, and show the beaver, plus draw a less awkward heron in flight. Thanks for astute art direction, Whitney!



There are some things you just have to invent. I had to draw a bear and a hive, but couldn't find very detailed reference. I drew this pattern.



I inverted and warped it, printed it out, and tore the edges, for that layered, papery quality of a hive. I combined the collage with the bear drawing.



It figures that reference often comes too late, but maybe it will be useful for another time, like this honeycomb I found in the snow yesterday.



Even though I live on an island, there's plenty of woodsy inspiration for this piece, for the Woodlands spread.



I loved the pattern of the inside of an envelope for the tree, but needed to revise that. This is the final version in the book.



Whenever I could, I played with cut paper and silhouettes.



Most of the illustrations are simple with plenty of white to give the poems their space.



Look who visited the lowtide about 3 months after I finished my illustrations...



And this morning I noticed this on a neighbor's roof:



The author writes at the end, " As a writer, I'm often asked where I get my ideas, and I usually say that I poke my nose out the front door. I suggest you do the same. If you stay on the lookout for quirky, curious, and remarkable things, you'll soon discover them everywhere."

Well said, Susan!

It was hard to miss this quirky curiosity, spotted down my street.



Only a clever quack would come up with such a remarkable obstacle for those drivers blasting to the next ferry.

Thanks to Suz, Charlesbridge, and folks like Tim, who make the world an ever fascinating place.

rock paper space

I love my rock. Peaks Island is only a mile long by a mile and a half wide, but I am stuck to it like a barnacle. You know it's going to be a good day when you start off finding just the right stick for the dog.



And then, you notice how lacy the low tide has made the edge of the sea.



Even the ice makes you think of an Angela Adams design.


But, I reluctantly leave my rock for the mainland now and then. I go to share a classroom with bright students, and then take three middle school girls to hang out at the Portland Museum of Art, where there is an amazing collage exhibit. Here they are taking time to just look out the window.



Of all the things to see, a very potent sculpture caught my fancy. It was the one thing I HAD to put down on paper.



The girls get dropped off at a middle school dance, and I meet up with my better half for the opening of Free for All at Space Gallery. Whoa, my piece is in the window.



It's a pretty eclectic mash of stuff.



Our island neighbor and blogger, Trisha, came along for a good time.



She kindly documented Mr. and Mrs. Barnacle enjoying the atmosphere!

gimme space

I dragged this out of the flat files yesterday, looking for any kind of portrait to send off to a group show in Brooklyn. More on that later. I did lots of self-portraits during art school, that chapter of self-conscious scrutiny. I didn't draw myself for a really long time, until submitting the above instead of a photo to the contributors page of a magazine, several years back. Polka dotty me, on the dark side.

Today will be a hectic day: teaching in the morning, hunting for nursing homes at lunch, dallying with middle school girls before the dance drop-off, and the finale:
Free for All 2 at Space Gallery.



I'll be looking to see where my Lupine Land fits into the hurly burly at Space.

lessons in learning

Yesterday's MLK holiday felt like a day off from a day off. Snowed in, with plans cancelled, it was time to pray and ponder. Having been in San Francisco during the big
1989 earthquake, it is still difficult to grasp what Haitians are enduring. Even on a good day, they face poverty and corruption.

I decided to reread Phil Hoose's book, "Claudette Colvin: Twice Towards Justice" which just won the Newbury Honor. Bravo to Phil, for bringing non-fiction to new heights. A brave Claudette Colvin tells it like it was, and often still is.

My daughter was involved in a powerful reading group project last year at King Middle School, that read Hoose's book, before publication, and worked with Art Ed majors from Maine College of Art. They created posters for a Portland METRO bus. It was a fascinating weave of language arts, visual literacy, civic history, and public art.

She chose to draw a portrait of Martin Luther King, Jr. with a quote, taken from the book: "And we are determined here in Montgomery to work and fight until justice runs down like water and righteousness like a mighty stream."

Amen.



Portraits are hard enough, but to capture a famous person is no easy thing. We were all proud of her graphic efforts, along with all the students who enhanced their learning with art making. She turned up later in this photo that appeared in a MECA newsletter.



Also pictured here is Art Ed student, Simon Adams. He spoke at a hearing in Augusta about the importance of art education, saying: "Before human beings had any kind of language, and daily survival was our main priority, people still took the time to paint on cave walls. Art is more than distraction; it is fundamental to our species. When we are gone, it will be our art, not our test scores, that tells our tale."

Amen.

This is his piece for the bus, that repeats Claudette's face in many colors, a sly reference to the term "coloreds" which was so prevalent a distinction in Jim Crow south.



I was back in two art classrooms this past week, trying to open minds while keeping pencils sharp. I do believe that drawing an object, a person, anything, brings us closer to it. We form a new relationship with that entity, really looking, and putting our perceptions on paper, making our own sense out of what we see in the world.

At SMCC, I asked students to draw logos in the environment. This is an exercise in being aware of the saturation of brands in our culture, as well as an object drawing challenge. The choices we make reveal our interests and level of engagement. Six drawings in an hour, please.

So I drew alongside them, to give them the space they needed.

My first item:



On the surface, a straightforward drawing. But the coiled and unplugged cord said something else about my inability to access the college portal last week.

Next:



Though my trusty water bottle is looking low, I've recently learned all about hydration. Note to self: drink more water.



Just one of many brands in my bag, with a hint of self.

I headed out to the lobby, where two students were also drawing. This vending machine cannot be ignored.



Back to the classroom, looking at student drawings. Borrowed this item from a student who just might be a neatnik.



I can picture this as a collosal object, falling, and obliterating all the mistakes of
a tiny village of bad spellers.

After this one, I needed some air. Headed over to Security, to find out why my new SMCC faculty ID was not working at the parking gate. Drew this camera, used for photo ID pictures, while they "recoded" my ID. Ah, the wonders of a surveillance state.



On my way back to class, spotted this newspaper box.



Watch out, Beacon! Armed with the submission schedule, I'll be fixin' to get some student works in there. There will be good things coming out of ART-190, I can tell already.

I bombed over the bridge to MECA for my afternoon Illustration 2 class. They're working on a different project and showed sketches and ideas about domestic rituals. Then we had an impromptu session of life drawing, with nonsense props. Props can make all the difference. I brought in some out-of-scale foam lobster claws, a big pair of wooden scissors, and a parasol. Another student brought in a Nerf gun. The first volunteer very gamely used all the props, and thus broke the ice for everyone with good humor.
Thanks, Shawn!



This student brought a very tattered baby doll, painted blue. It was a graduation gift from her science teacher. Maybe a lesson on shaken baby syndrome? She held it with such tenderness, a whole story could be written around this pose. Thanks, Sam.



Last pose, thanks to Devin. Very satirical and begging of parody. I suggested to the class they could draw what was there as well as what wasn't. (A pool of blood, perhaps?)



Thanks to intelligent students, I'll be learning from them every class. We'll exchange our curiosities about the world, one drawing at a time.