Sixty-something woman shares ruminations as she plys the latter third of her life with the caveat that age entitles her to be absolutely outrageous whenever possible.
Thursday, April 04, 2013
Back to basics...
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.