To draw is to notice.
To notice is to pause.
And sometimes, all it takes is a barefoot boy in a camping chair, chasing the drips of a popsicle, to remind us what it means to be here.
This is Popsiclence—a sacred kind of focus.
It’s where observational drawing leads us: out of the swirl, into the now.
And in that now, we heal.
My painting professor drew this diagram on the board and suggested that it is a diagram for a painting. "Begin with large areas, covering the canvas with general colors and shapes. Refine the shapes and begin adding details. Refine the details and work with smaller brushes. When you are adding marks that your viewers would not notice, be done." There is more, but that is enough to ponder for now.
Part of a personal project I'm working on right now, to experiment with unfamiliar art styles and practice lettering skills by drawing animals. This is my first foray into cubism-inspired artwork (definitely don't claim to be an expert on actual cubism)--it was way more fun than I expected! I think I'll be trying some more...
Words of wisdom that a friend came out with during a Lord Of The Rings Extended Editions film night over the weekend jumpstarted my creative juices this time around. :-)
I love the show Breaking Bad, and rewatch watch it a lot. I noticed the other night Saul said this to Walt and I immediately got out my iPad and started in on the letters.
Very sorry to hear the news about GeorgeFloyd who was a victim of police brutality. Racist people don’t deserve any respect in this world. All lives matters.
Sometimes wisdom comes in a joke,
and sometimes laughter carries truth.
Brian spoke like a sage,
Mike answered like a friend,
and together they held the room.
We draw to remember.
Not only the lines of faces,
but the presence of goodness,
the gift of voices that echo
long after the chairs are empty.
This is no landscape you could ever stand in.
No observational drawing, no safe horizon line.
This chalk experiment is a dream unfolding in color: a golden field lit from within, a scarlet seam of fire at its edge, and a storm-heavy sky pressing down with ancient weight.
It feels like a place between worlds—where the conscious and unconscious meet, where memory and imagination blur. Some might see a battlefield, others a meadow after rain, and still others a veil between life and death. That is the beauty: the painting does not tell you what it is; it invites you to confess what you see.
Psychologists say we project ourselves onto images like these. So—what do you notice first? The light? The darkness? The burning red?
Perhaps that is not about the drawing at all, but about you.
Part of a personal project I'm working on right now, to experiment with new art styles and practice lettering skills by drawing animals. The color palette and symmetrical motifs in this one were inspired by the boats on Lake Xochimilco in Mexico, which is the last remaining place wild axolotls live.
Quick sketches for the processing of incomplete thoughts. Everything is created twice, first in thought, second in form. I am still thinking and still forming and still being formed.
An exercise in observation - quick sketch. I was told that if I made a drawing a day for 365 days, that in a year, I might have a couple nice drawings.
