The cowwoman felt that her work was too static, which means I had become my own teacher, and that is a way to get really stuck with the art. So I signed up for some drawing lessons from a local artist. He believes in learning to draw from the mind rather than rendering objects you can actually see. This has never been my forte, but, hell, I am willing to try anything. Here is my first lesson, drawing a can from the right perspective. I actually embellished my can with other lessons I had learned, like weighting the line so that it is heavier when in shadow and lighter on the side of the ambient light. I got a big nono when I left raccoon prints on my nice clean drawing, and was admonished to always rest my hand on a stationary paper towel. That alone was worth the $40 I spent (for 4 two hour classes, being a senior doesn't ALWAYS suck, you know), and I was so impressed with this guy I signed up for his pastel classes, too, which means I need to dig in the muck that is my studio to find all the goodies I need. Or buy new ones. Gee that sounds like fun, actually. New pastels are just like a new jumbo box of Crayola crayons, and remember how exciting that was? Jumping up and down here like a little kid. Figuratively speaking, of course.
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