Sketchographer

6/17/20 Sketches from live video

A couple of months ago, my introduction to the Zoom videoconferencing app occurred in a Facebook group meetup. Since then, I’ve used it numerous times for life drawing, classes and other events, and now it seems like the new normal.

Last week the same Facebook group had another meetup – multiple times, in fact, to accommodate various time zones around the globe. As the self-appointed sketchographer again, I tried to capture as many participants as I could. It was so much fun to see faces and chat with folks in North America and Europe.

Blind View

6/16/20 Maple Leaf neighborhood (modified blind contour)

The modified blind contour selfies I made were a fun warm-up to the challenge initiated by USk Japan: Make a sketch on location using the same method. Standing on our upstairs deck looking out on this familiar view, the technique gave me a fresh perspective. Each time I lifted the pencil, I looked down at the paper to regain my footing, but changed pencil colors to indicate the path. Although I would be hard-pressed to recognize this view as my neighbors’ houses and trees, I like the stark contrast between the marks indicating the architecture and those of the foliage.  Like the selfies, this sketch was a non-threatening and engaging way to approach a view I’m usually not excited by.

Think More, Draw Less

After getting past the initial shock of how challenging it is to draw on dark paper (with focus on the highlights instead of the shadows), I am now having endless fun exploring this mind-twisting exercise!

I’ve also lately taken on the additional challenge of attempting to draw as little as possible while still evoking the whole hand. If I draw too little, the result might become abstract or look like amputated fingers. It’s a fine line to tread. One thing I have learned so far from this minimalism exercise is that the more time I spend thinking before I put down the first mark, the less time I spend drawing. When I was drawing the whole hand, I didn’t do much pre-thinking at all – I just sat down and drew. Now I spend more time examining the form and how the light defines it. I’m sure books and art teachers have given me that advice many times, but I guess it takes a pandemic and 96 drawings to learn the lesson.  

Selfie Mode

6/14/20

Every now and then I get in the mood to do a self-portrait. Typically, these are “serious” drawings in which I attempt to capture a likeness. This always spells doom, and I’m rarely happy with the results (I’ll show them to you one of these days).

One day after another frustrating attempt, I thought about how easily and quickly I sketch small portraits of other people – why can’t I do that with myself? At left is the result, and I must admit I like this one – pandemic hair and all.

This week USk Japan issued yet another inspiring challenge: Draw using the modified blind contour method, which means keeping your eyes on the subject and avoiding looking at the paper. We can look down at our paper occasionally to regain footing on the drawing, but when we do, we change pen or pencil colors. The changing of colors indicates the path and process we took, which is fascinating to track.

I warmed up with a couple of selfies in front of our full-length mirror (below). I like these better than most selfies I’ve made! 

6/15/20 (modified blind contours)

Dead Ends Galore

6/17/20 Green Lake neighborhood

Our usual walking territory is bordered on one side by Interstate 5. Back in the day when I rode the bus often, I crossed over the freeway regularly to get to the bus stop, but it’s a noisy, unpleasant walk, so I avoid it otherwise. We have been tiring of the four-by-10-block area we’ve been walking daily since March, though, so I proposed a change. Venturing over the freeway, we have a whole new neighborhood to explore.

The best discovery so far: three streets that dead end at the freeway wall! I love dead ends like this because I can stand in the street with my back to the wall, safe from cars and without getting in the way of pedestrians. And lucky for me on this morning, the clouds suddenly parted.

Houses of Maple Leaf

6/13/20 Maple Leaf neighborhood

A couple of years ago I began a series of sketches to document the architectural styles of my Maple Leaf neighborhood. Most were “portraits” of individual houses I found especially charming or that exemplified the various styles I see around here. I usually stood directly across the street, and on warm, sunny mornings, it was sheer delight (and extremely challenging, I might add) to spend close to an hour trying to capture these homes.

I continued the series last year, and my intention was to keep going this summer. But now I don’t feel I should stand on the sidewalk for an hour while pedestrians may be trying to get past me safely. Stepping 6 feet away each time I see someone coming is difficult to do while sketching.

I’m undeterred, however. I am taking notes on houses that face in directions that I can find safe spots to stand for a while. And I have also changed my approach to this series. The sketches do not all have to be color portraits as I have made in the past. Quick, small sketches also tell a story, especially when shown together.

Above are three small sketches I made while standing on the corner of Northeast 80^th Street and Fourth Avenue Northeast. Eightieth is a busy, noisy arterial that leads to the freeway entrance, so pedestrians rarely walk where I stood. Within 15 minutes, I simply pivoted to make each sketch. I’ll let you decide which one is not like the others, but they all tell the story of Maple Leaf architectural styles.

A Walking Sketch Journal

6/12/20 Maple Leaf neighborhood

Stopping for a sketch has become an integral part of my daily walk. On many days, I stop for only a few minutes (each of these took 5 to 10). On especially pleasant days when it just feels good to stand in the sunshine, I might take a good 30 minutes or more. As I walk, I’m constantly looking around for a sketch; it keeps me engaged and observant.

When I recently tried making a sketch journal page spread to record the events of an ordinary day, I enjoyed both the process and the result, but I also knew it was not a format I was likely to continue: I felt under too much pressure to do things that were sketchable. When I look back at my small walk sketches such as these, however, I realize that they collectively form a sketch journal in some way. Nothing extraordinary ever happens on those daily walks, but if one thing catches my attention for the length of a drawing, then those few minutes are not wasted.

My sketches have also become my fitness record: Instead of looking at my steps on a FitBit, I can just look back at my sketchbook to see the days I took a walk.

6/2/20

6/3/20 A squirrel lunching from a bird feeder!

6/11/20