Another Year of #OneWeek100People Done!

3/9/20 Capitol Hill neighborhood

At the time that I wrote the post that introduced this week’s One Week 100 People challenge, the anxiety and escalating urgency of COVID-19’s spread in the Seattle area was only just beginning. Every day, updates from our local health department grow increasingly alarming, and authorities urge anyone in higher-risk groups (including those of us over 60) to stay home if possible. I found it dreadfully ironic that the annual people-sketching challenge would fall during a time when we are being told to avoid people!

3/9/20 Green Lake

Although the online challenge is not restricted to urban sketching – it welcomes drawing from photos and posed models as well as from real life – I have always done most of my 100 drawings each year from actual people going about their lives (I have also done some from posed models at life-drawing sessions). For me, it’s just more fun, as well as being more challenging. When I first started thinking about the challenge a month ago, I was looking forward to going to shopping malls, transit stations and other populated locations to get the most people-sketching bang for the buck. Now the health department and my better judgment were telling me to avoid exactly those kinds of places . . . how would I ever accomplish 100 sketches?

On Day 1, the easiest solution was to use my handy (and now regularly sanitized) mobile studio. Arriving a few minutes early for my Gage class, I parked across the street and sketched a few students and other pedestrians nearby.

That afternoon, I parked at Green Lake facing the walking path and finished off 25 sketches for the day.

3/10/20 Bellevue Square

On Tuesday, USk Seattle met at Bellevue Square mall – a special ad hoc outing to work on the 100 people challenge. As a group admin, I gnashed my teeth all last week about whether we should go ahead with the outing or cancel. With growing concern about COVID-19, was it reckless to gather? Once I arrived, I was happy that we didn’t cancel. After feeling gloomy all week, it felt good to see friends and sketch. The mall was emptier than I had ever seen, and we laughed sardonically that we’d be hard pressed to find a hundred people! (As it turned out, this would be our last sketch outing for a while. . . shortly after, based on Governor Inslee's restrictions, we cancelled outings in March and April.)

Bellevue Square is an ideal people-sketching mall. Wide-open multiple levels enable easy views looking up, down or across. In addition, stairways offer an additional interesting challenge. I chose to stand, but other sketchers enjoyed using the many tables and convenient seating throughout the mall.

Hitting my groove almost immediately, I decided to finish my remaining 75 in the 2½ hours of the outing. One hundred done!

As in previous years, my goal was to avoid portraits or details and focus strictly on making simple gestures that capture individuals, not generic stick figures. It was also an excellent opportunity to study the movement of walking, especially people coming toward or going away from me. I tried to draw the subtle differences in their legs to show that they are walking, not standing.

As for materials, I stayed as simple as possible: A Uni Pin brush pen and a Stillman & Birn Epsilon sketchbook.

It’s Not Folly

3/4/20 PCC Market courtyard, Green Lake neighborhood

After I had posted the sketch of Costco shoppers in a Facebook group, a member sent me this private message:

“Do you think it’s folly for someone who likes art a great deal but still draws like a kid to keep drawing?”

This Facebook group is for users of Field Notes Brand notebooks, and many (if not most) of its members are journal writers, so I knew the member who messaged me would relate to that kind of writing. Here’s how I responded: 

“I absolutely believe that it’s valuable to draw, no matter what the results are, because you learn so much about the world around you when you pay attention and observe closely, which drawing requires. It is valuable the way writing in a journal is valuable – to help you remember, reflect, observe. In the same way that we keep a journal without the intent to publish, sketching for yourself is not with the intent to make great art to hang in a gallery. It’s just for you to enjoy the process.”

I find myself saying some version of this response frequently to people who have admired my sketches and have the desire to draw, but they are either discouraged by their own attempts or believe that “talent” is necessary to do it. I usually don’t respond to the “talent” part because that gets tiresome. But I do respond enthusiastically to people who seem to be trying, because that’s how we all got started, and we all need encouragement at any stage.

I often have to use various metaphors to help people understand that drawing is no different from anything else that is both a process and a result. With people who imagine that the ability to draw is somehow innate, I use the metaphor of music: Do you believe every concert violinist was born knowing how to play? (This gets used during the tiresome “talent” discussion.)

 

3/5/20 Blackwing pencil sketched with Musgrave pencil

With people who have experience with journal writing, it’s a little easier. They understand writing for themselves – to document, understand, reflect – and they know they have no intention of publishing their notebooks for public consumption. They understand the pleasure and value of this type of process without focus on the result, so I hope it’s less of a leap for them to view drawing in the same way.

I’m not sure why drawing is seen so differently. I suppose it’s our culture’s emphasis on making art for the purpose of the enjoyment of others – to make it marketable so that others will buy it. (Another conversation that has grown tiresome is the one that begins, “Wow, you draw good! I bet you could sell that!” I know people mean well when they say this, and I thank them for the compliment, but it’s not a discussion that interests me.)

On the other hand, it brings me great joy to scan through my Instagram feed and see the sketchbook pages of all the people who get it. They share their work because it gives them pleasure to make it. For me, that’s the part that counts.

(Sketches shown here are unrelated to the thoughts above, other than that they were fun to make.)

Dissection

3/4/20 Museum Aquarelle, Supracolor, Prismacolor, Polychromos in S&B Zeta sketchbook

In a botanical drawing class handout that I received from instructor Kathleen McKeehen, plant dissection is discussed and shown – the how-to’s of carefully cutting open the private parts of flowers to draw the hidden innards. I’m glad it’s not a class requirement, as I’m not too much into floral surgery. However, I have no such hesitation about putting entire bell peppers under the knife.

Cut top to bottom, the green one resembles the ventricles of a heart. I chose an unlikely mish-mash of colored pencils – oil-based, wax-based, water-soluble, vintage and contemporary. The method to my madness was a desire for both rich hues where needed and fine details in the seedy area. The purple cast shadow was a whim. I like the color, but I always think of Stillman & Birn Zeta as having a smooth surface, so I was surprised that the soft Prismacolor revealed so much texture.

3/5/20 Museum Aquarelle, Irojiten, Polychromos

Since most of that eclectic combo of pencils worked well together, I decided to try the strategy again. This time I cut a diagonal cross-section through the red pepper. Most of the luscious color came from Caran d’Ache Museum Aquarelle with some detail help from Tombow Irojiten and Faber-Castell Polychromos (the latter two are among my hardest high-quality brands). I used the same Zeta sketchbook, but the harder Polychromos showed less of the paper’s tooth.

For more thoughts on why I like using both hard and soft pencils together, here are a few more posts on the subject:

Soft and Hard

Soft and Hard, Part 2: Water-Soluble Colored Pencils

Hard and Soft

COVID-19 Be Damned

3/6/20 Green Lake neighborhood

Toward the end of the week after the first COVID-19 deaths in King County – the first in the US – had been announced, I was feeling very glum. Up until that news, the Terrible Silent Killer was an ocean away in Asia and Europe. I had been concerned and wary, but not distressed. Suddenly, the Killer could be sitting next to me on the bus, handling the apple I was about to put in my cart or opening any door ahead of me.

On Thursday I quarantined myself at home as officials urged us to avoid “large groups” (defined as 10 or more) and keep our distance from others. Seventy percent isopropyl alcohol became the only thing between me and every deadly bug in the universe. The University of Washington announced that it was cancelling classes – the first US college to do so. Meanwhile, the other USk Seattle admins and I were discussing by email whether to cancel scheduled sketch outings. It was downright depressing.

The next day I had a few errands to take care of, so I went out into the maelstrom of nastiness that was surely swirling all around me. My first stop was the Green Lake library to return a book; thankfully, I could use the drive-up bin and avoid facing all those germy staffers and patrons inside!

Before contaminating myself by opening the bin, I thought I’d try to find a sketch from the parking lot. I’m used to sketching from my car – I do it every winter – but this day felt different. Sequestered in my car out of fear was a terrible way to sketch, and I felt more depressed than ever.

Just then, I spotted a small tree just beginning to blossom – a pink spot of hope on a bleak, gray day. COVID-19 be damned. If this is the way I must sketch on location, so be it.

Worth a Latte

3/4/20 Green Lake neighborhood, Seattle

As often happens when I’m out sketching construction crews and heavy equipment, a worker approached to see what I was doing, either wary that I was taking notes or simply curious. Delighted and even excited when he saw this sketch, he offered to buy it from me for a cup of coffee. (No, I didn’t. It would be like selling torn out pages from my diary!)

(Incidentally, I learned that the “stilts” supporting the excavator backhoe loader (corrected by a reader – thank you!) in this position are called outriggers – not from the worker but from a follower on social media. I learn so much from sketching!)

Gearing Up for #OneWeek100People2020

3/3/20 North Seattle Costco

As soon as the news media started reporting the first US deaths from COVID-19 as being in Washington State, the media also reported on panic buying and hoarding of supplies. Anecdotally, local friends on social media mentioned seeing grabby shoppers and empty store shelves.

All of that made us trepidatious about hitting Costco, but I had a prescription to pick up, and we were getting low on a few things, so we decided to brave it. Shortly after opening time on a Tuesday morning, the parking lot looked like a Saturday afternoon. Inside, the lines were longer than I had ever seen. The Kleenex was completely gone, and nearly all the toilet paper. I saw three shoppers wearing masks.

We refused to join the hoarding and bought only what we would have purchased anyway in normal quantities. I didn’t see any crazy, panicked behavior, so my overall anxiety went down. While waiting for Greg to return from the restroom, I sketched a few people pushing their loaded (but not over-loaded) carts toward the exit.

It was a good lead-up to One Week 100 People, which begins today! This will be my fourth year participating in the annual social media challenge that encourages practicing drawing people. The goal is to make 100 sketches of people in five days, and this year it goes from March 9 – 13. Although it’s not strictly urban sketching – you can use photos, live models, or even yourself – I’ve always done mine from life. With my current focus on botanical drawing, I haven’t been to life drawing practice at Gage since November, so I’m feeling rusty again. I’m looking forward to this week of focusing on drawing people – a good distraction from all the disturbing news we’re bombarded with each day.

As I have in the past, I’ll save up my drawings and post them here at the end of the week, but you can watch my progress on my Instagram account.

Bell Pepper Backlash and Rediscovering Neocolor IIs

3/3/20 Neocolor II Aquarelle crayons in Stillman & Birn Zeta sketchbook

A few days ago when I was sketching a bell pepper with Prismacolor Art Stix and enjoying the crayon-like fun, I said to myself, “The only thing that would make this even more fun is if these were water-soluble.” Then I bonked myself upside the head and had the art material version of a V8 moment: I could have used Caran d’Ache Neocolor II Aquarelle crayons!

Years ago when I was making mixed media collages, these water-soluble crayons were one of my favorite products. Available in the same palette as Supracolor pencils, Neocolor II crayons are rich with pigment and very soft and easy to apply. (If you’re shopping for these, note that Caran d’Ache also makes potentially confusing Neocolor I wax pastels, which look identical except that they are not water-soluble.)  If I didn’t mind carrying a larger sketchbook, I’d probably be using Neocolor IIs on location alongside (or instead of) Museum Aquarelles.

(Actually, I have been using one Neocolor II on location for the past year or so – Middle Cobalt Blue 660 – which I use only when I want to “paint” the sky with the “licking” method. I previously used a Museum Aquarelle pencil with the same technique, but after getting the pencil tip wet, it would be too soft to draw with in a traditional manner, and sometimes it was inconvenient to wait for it to dry, so using the Neocolor II was more practical.)

My peppers were still holding up in the fridge, so I happily got out the Neocolor IIs. As with Art Stix, it’s not possible to get too detailed or fussy with these crayons, so I take broad strokes and swipe with water just as broadly. It’s probably as close to “painting” as I can get without using actual paints.

After my previous graphite exercise for my botanical drawing class, this sketch felt liberating and unrestrained (not to mention fast – this took 20 minutes, while the graphite version took nearly five hours). And yet for me, it was just as challenging, though in a different way. Maybe it’s like an aerobic workout versus weight training: Each approach strengthens different muscles.