Roz Wound Up

The Elephant in the Room: Why Don't You Understand Color Theory?

I've written a page about Color Theory so why bring it up again?

Because it keeps coming up. Because people keep asking me questions about it. Because I constantly run into people who come to my demos and classes and say, "I want to paint, but I don't understand color theory—and it's just science after all and I want to make ART."

Well that's exactly like saying "I want to live in France and be totally integrated into the social fabric, but I'm never going to learn the language, I'm just going to YELL in English at the top of my voice."

Good luck with that, especially in France, as they have zero tolerance for people screaming in English (I saw some folks doing that when I was visiting and it was pretty scary!).

And you know what, the art world also has zero tolerance for not knowing color theory. Some people skate by and fake it with the discovery of some harmonious choices they continue to use in repeatable combinations, but ultimately their work seems stale and their own boredom shows through. (Note: there is a huge difference between skating by on a few color choices that work and developing a palette you keep returning to that helps you make your own artistic statement. As you learn more about color theory you'll understand the difference and you'll also be able to spot the difference.)

Also, if you really love something like painting, and you want to get better, how can you possibly afford to ignore one of the key components essential to improvement? This goes for all artists, whether or not they work in a representational way. Why would you spend the hours needed to sew a quilt with hideous colors instead of first spending a couple hours of study to understand color theory and then create a stunning quilt at the end of that labor?

I called this post "The Elephant in the Room" because people keep asking me about color theory, but aren't interested in the answers. They keep complaining about color theory at me, as if I have a pocketful of Band-Aids I can stick on their fingers that will solve their ignorance.

Color theory is "that thing"  everyone wants to understand, but no one wants to study—as if study implied all sorts of horrible, back breaking work.

Well it does involve some thought.

Aren't you already putting thought into your art?

And it does involve some work. But if you are an artist working to improve the skill and craftsmanship you bring to your art, then this is a no-brainer.

Color theory is not frightening or difficult. Our insecurities about our knowledge of color theory may make it seem so. (That "Twilight Zone" episode I saw the other night might keep me checking under the bed when I turn the lights off but that's a legitimate concern compared to fear of color theory!)

Color theory is not whimsy either—though color in the hands of a master can produce a whimsical array that will delight your eye (think Wayne Thiebaud).

Remember this: in the late 1800s artists went down to the pub, excuse me, café, and talked endlessly about, you guessed it—color theory. It was as important and dynamic a conversation for them as the social ramifications of the newest book from Zola or the political and social fallout from the Dreyfus affair. Artists were thinkers and color theory mattered. They were passionate about it.

Today I know hundreds of artists and only one of them will go mano-a-mano with me to disucss color theory. She happens to be a landscape artist who sits outside in all seasons, observing the changing colors of nature—changing her palette accordingly. She experiments constantly to test her theories and refine and bolster her choices within her own artistic interpretation.

She also likes to claim that her color choices are intuitive and that she proceeds from a fly-by-the-seat-of-her-pants aesthetic. That's really only so much conversational nonsense. When you watch her work you see actions that come out of the study, the experiments, and the practice, not from intuition. And it is this thoughtful basis on which she builds, that allows her to definitively and dramatically place that one bold stroke or passage of color people see as an intuitive epiphany. (She has trained her intuition.)

It is not an accident of mind that this painter is also my most politically involved friend.

How do you get to this point?

Well if you don't have a local café where you can discuss color theory then reading and studying will get you part way there. Next comes practice—constant practice with a system that is built around repetition: a limited palette always arranged the same way; color studies to understand how all the pigments in your palette work individually and in conjunction with each other, before the inclusion of additional pigments; and finally a whole lot of looking, looking, looking, and painting, painting, painting.

You will be looking at things in nature and in the art world (to see the vocabularly of color used by other artists). You will always be taking things apart: does this yellow have a green cast to it; is this red warm or cool; what is meant by a warm or cool color; what color am I seeing in these shadows on the table, in the snow, or on the tile floor?

You have to be able to see these colors before you can even have any hope of painting them.

Once you see them the fun begins. Now you get to make the limited paints available to you reproduce those unlimited colors. Even if you had all the watercolors Daniel Smith produces you still wouldn't have all the colors in nature. So how you go about mixing those colors you see in nature on your paper or canvas is the task. The Task (especially for representational artists).

But it's also where you get to edit, refine, and present your own vision, using your knowledge of color to express your observations of the world—to set emphasis, mood, and meaning.

This is where the work starts. It takes a whole life time. It's where the fun is.

Learning about Color Theory

Classes
Caveat—not all color theory classes are created equal. I've heard horror stories about color theory classes where instructors were clueless or confused and the students left in worse shape than they entered.

Select a color theory class based on recommendations of someone you trust. Make sure that the medium used in class to explore color theory is one that will suit your needs: will the teacher let you work in a medium of your own choice or will you work in a medium that isn't useful for you (e.g., paper or fabric swatches, when you are a painter; oil paints when you have allergies)?

Just because you work in colored pencils and the teacher insists that everyone work in watercolor is not a bad thing—in fact I encourage you (as someone who works both in colored pencil and watercolor and who teaches color theory) to take a color theory class with watercolor as the medium. You will learn more quickly and readily about the realities of blending using single-pigment paints than you will learn blending multi-pigment pencils. Once you've got that knowledge, working only with your pencils will become more clear to you.

I also recommend that you find an instructor who knows something about the history of paint and pigments so that he or she can lead you through some historic paintings, explaining what is happening with the use of color.

It is also helpful to look at the work of your instructor. Do you like it? Does it speak to you? When I was young I signed up for a watercolor class at a prominent school. The first session the instructor forgot her slides and I never saw her images until 3 weeks into class. They held no appeal for me. They were abstract and lacked any insight into the use of color. I was horrified when she walked by my station one day and complimented me on my "scratch" block of paper on which I was essentially trying out colors and cleaning my brush. She said, "With a little bit of work that could be a great painting." I waited until the break, packed up, made apologies about a family time conflict, and left, never to return (though her words have become a running gag for Dick and me). Always do your homework on the instructor!

Next, find an instructor who provides in-class demos. You will learn faster if you can see color theory in action—see the blending, see the choices, get a walk-through as it were. A qualified instructor should be at home working in front of others. You need to see what choices the instructor makes—when and how. Demonstration art isn't about creating a stunning piece of art while students watch. Switching from verbal to non-verbal modes may inhibit a great final result made on the spur of the moment. But demonstration art, created by someone who knows his subject intimately, will always provide useful insight for the student. 

And seek an instructor who is flexible. Someone who can only provide information on the colors he or she uses may give you an introduction to your study, but you will not develop any reasoning skills for selecting your unique palette.

A good teacher will help you find your path to a palette that works for you.

Books on Color Theory
Please see my Page on "Color Theory: related posts and recommendations." In that post, besides listing my favorite books on color theory, I suggest a way to create a color theory-self-class that you can set up by yourself so that you don't have to grumble, "I don't live near a school or class with any teachers like you suggest."

Ultimately you're going to have to mix color. You can't learn how to mix color by staring at swatches. I write about that in my page on color theory as well. But it is a good thing to remember when your internal critic is stalling you and suggesting you should look at the swatches a little more. Nonsense, squeeze some paint onto your palette and have at it.

Concluding Thoughts
If you don't know as much about color theory as you would like to know, or as you think you should know, there is no better time than the present to get more knowledge. The shame of not understanding color theory really comes not from the lack of understanding but from your own failure to do something about your lack of knowledge.

Consider this post "tough love."

I can't make you study color theory. I really don't care if you study color theory. My enjoyment of studying color theory, of wrestling with the choices in my own work, is not diminished one bit if you don't study color theory.

It's just that every time one of you comes up to me at a demo and complains about your own lack of knowledge of color theory I am reminded that YOU care.

So I'm simply pointing out that yep, that's an elephant over there in the corner of this room.

He is way big, but majestically handsome. He's initially unpredictable in temperament, but basically gentle upon further acquaintance. There are a lot of wrinkles in his skin and each fold deserves study and observation. If you look closely you just might not be able to look away again. You might feel a legitimate moment of fear about that. This is a point of choice in your life and it's healthy to have that thought. (It's unhealthy to let that fear stop you.)

If you walk over to that elephant you might find yourself on a path of study that will delight and frustrate you for the rest of your life. That choice will of necessity focus you and eliminate other choices from your path—but at the same time it will open and clear any path dealing with art.

I can't make you study color theory. All I can do is tell you, "Yep, that is an elephant in the room; and he belongs to you."

Now it's up to you to do something about it.

Or not.

What's it going to be?

Bell Museum Sketch Night Reminder

Can't remember when Bell Museum Sketch Night is? Don't recall what the theme is? Want a link to directions?

Well I've put up a page called "Bell Museum Sketch Night" which you can find in the page list located in the left column of this blog. Check it out whenever you want. I'll post reminders in future, but in case I forget, you'll always have access to the info. But you might also just want to mark all the first Thursdays on your calendar!

Reminder: Thursday, February 3 is Sketch Night at the Bell from 6:30 to 8:30 p.m. and the theme is plants and fungi.

Isolating Background Texture

Above: More high school faces with the Faber-Castel Pitt Artist's Calligraphy pen. See below for more details. Click on the image to view an enlargement.

I was hoping to post a video on binding the Portrait Party books today but hit a technical snafu. That will come another day.

Instead here are more faces from old yearbooks. A couple weeks ago in my day-long class I was trying to explain something to my students. I reached for my samples but couldn't find the example of "that" I wanted.

Wednesday I realized as I was working on this page spread I was making my point—so before I forget—if you have a background texture and color it is often fun to draw over it and then isolate the figures by painting around them, retaining the texture inside the figures. (If you follow the link and watch the video you'll see another example of this at the end of that journal. I paint around the figure of a dog that was sketched across the spread. One page had been pre-painted the other had not. Painting around the dog helps meld the two different backgrounds into something a bit more cohesive.)

On the above page spread I used fluid acrylics and acrylic ink to create a background of pink and Payne's Gray. Drips, streaks, splotches, some pockmarking from spritzing with water—all that. I had hoped to do a painting on that page. I even worked beyond this page to "save" it, something I rarely do. But it was time to finish the journal (only two spreads left), so I picked up the pen and started sketching. You can follow the time tags around the page to see the sketching order. When I was through sketching I took M. Graham Payne's Gray gouache and painted around the figures. (The note was already written on the page before painting the background, but I knew when I drew the last portrait and the outline of her feather neckline that I was going to be writing something in that space.)

So for my students, that's what I was trying to explain the other day. For everyone else, well it's something fun with which to play. Note that the color you elect to use to isolate the images can change the mood and tone of your piece, so have fun experimenting.

Bakken Museum Call to Artists: Electric Green Installations

I just received this press release from a friend at the Bakken. I think it might be of interest to some of the Twin Cities' artists who read this blog. It says:

The Bakken is a one-of-a-kind museum exploring the mysteries of our electrical world that seeks to convey innovative means of generating electricity to demonstrate the value of sustainable, renewable and alternative energy sources to museum visitors.

Twin Cities' artists are invited to an Artist Open House on Thursday, February 3, 2011 from 4:30 p.m. to 6 p.m. to learn about a partnership between The Bakken Museum and  Forecast Public Art to develop a Green Energy Art Garden.  The project offers artists an opportunity to participate in a new creative enterprise that will transform the museum's rooftop terrace into a unique gallery.  The garden will showcase seasonal and permanent works of art that display the electrical power potential in sun, wind and water, and will connect artists with scientists, inventors and engineers working in the field of renewable energy.

You need to RSVP for this event to Suzy Piper, Promotions Coordinator at piper@TheBakken.org, or call 612-926-3878, ext. 251

Painting the Covers of Stonehenge Wire-bound Journals—Another Look

Left: Painted cover boards on a Stonehenge wire-bound journal, image ©2011 Frank Bettendorf. Click on the image to view an enlargement.

Readers of the blog will recall that in September I posted instructions for painting on the naked boards of your Stonehenge wire-bound journals.

That post walks you through wrapping and protecting your pages and applying the paint. I have two methods: without gesso and with gesso.

Well my friend Frank Bettendorf decided to take the plunge and used my instructions to alter the covers of a 7 x 7 inch Stonehenge journal. He agreed to let me use his questions and comments here on the blog so that you could all benefit from his experience—and so that I could add some clarifying comments. Frank's comments will be in italic and appear in the red color I use on my blog. My responses and comments will appear as regular text.

1. I need more experience with liquid acrylic because even though I thought I was painting "rapidly" my acrylics dried so fast that my attempts at adding second color were unsuccessful.

I should probably stress even more the need to work quickly with any type of acrylic paint, unless you add some retarder. When you use an acrylic retarder you increase the open time of your paint. This can be a great thing if you want to paint something that is going to take a bit of thought, and if you want more blending capabilities. Fluid acrylics are made to mix with the various media—gel medium, modeling medium, you name it. Because the pigment strength of an artist quality fluid acrylic (we aren't talking cheap craft paints here folks) is so high, you don't get the dilution you do when you mix other acrylic paints with a medium. A tube acrylic, even artist quality, already has more medium in the paint—it's what gives it the unique working characteristics people like for certain uses, but it already has a dilution of sorts and if you mix it with the various mediums you won't get the same intensity you get if you use a fluid acrylic in those mixes with mediums. It's good to know this going in and choose appropriately for your application and needs.

I don't use acrylic retarder because I hate the SMELL. All acrylic paints and mediums have some odor and I make my selections about which to use based on how well I can tolerate those odors. (I tend to use acrylics duing the spring, summer, and fall, when the windows can be open!) I haven't found an acrylic retarder that I can tolerate.

Instead I compensate the only other possible way—I paint as fast as I can. To make this more successful I also think what I want to achieve and make a little plan in my head (do a., then b., then c.) before I even crack a bottle of fluid acrylic open.

Next I only pour out about a quarter's worth (i.e., the American twenty-five cent piece) because it will dry on my palette. And I only pour out the color I'm actually using. I can always add more to the palette if I need it.

I needed to stress this more, perhaps, in the original post, the idea of making a plan, because there isn't much time, and I'm advocating using as little water as possible so that you don't get distressed or soaked boards.

All that said, once you have a sense of how rapid "rapidly" happens your next attempts will be better, and each time will also improve.

I recommend that if you haven't worked much with fluid acrylics that you practice on some cardboard or grocery bags first. Also you might want to make sure you have the humidifier on. I tend to have a dry house, but my point here is that if your temperature is cool-ish and a little more moist you'll buy yourself additional time over anyone painting in a dry, hot environment, or out in the sun for instance—which I don't recommend at all anyway, because that's just crazy; I only paint in the shade with a hat on).

Over time with practice you'll also get a sense of how much of the first color you need to put on to your piece in order for it to be still moist enough to blend when you add the second. (Again, environmental factors are going to be key here.)

And another factor that's key is how much moisture you have on your brush. I like to do these effects with a dry brush, but sometimes the paint is too viscous. In those situations I will wet the brush and then squeeze the hairs with a towel, pressing most of the water out of the brush. I'll then use the paint. Even that hint of moisture will do a lot to opening up your working time. (Without the negative effect of saturating your boards with moisture.)

Left: the Completed outside back cover of Frank's painted journal. Image ©2011 Frank Bettendorf. Click on the image to view an enlargement.

2. My second color tended to cover the first color rather than blend so I couldn't approximate what your cover looked like. That's  not necessarily bad but my vision of the front cover and back cover didn't come out the way my mind's eye had seen them.

Frank, and anyone out there who tries my approach from September 2010, hang in there, try it again. Think ahead as I mentioned in the response to comment one above. Take the other factors into consideration. You will learn to time it so that blending will occur.

If you are, however, one of those contemplative painters who works slowly at stuff then use a retarder. Use as little as possible at first and work your way up from there until you hit a happy mix. Try some environment control too! And always, do what Frank did—have your desired result in your mind's eye. Frank couldn't work fast enough in this first trial to get to his mind's eye view, but if he didn't have that vision in mind he'd never get there and he'd never realize where the sticking points are in his approach.

3. The insides of the front and back (not sent because they're too bad), were where I tried to use Prussian Blue and Flame Red. They made a color too black instead of a rich purple that I was trying to attain. Glad they are inside!

Frank made a common error in color mixing. Blue and Red don't make purple (Michael Wilcox deals with this in his book, "Green and Yellow Don't Make Green.") There is so much green in Prussian Blue and so much orange in Flame Red that everything pretty much cancels itself out, i.e., the green in the Prussian Blue is a complement to the red, and as such will blend to a neutral, which in full strength (undiluted with water or medium) will read as a dark black, and the orange in Flame Red will complement the blue in the Prussian blue, again two complements. You get the idea. To make a good purple you want a clean cool blue and a cool red. Then there will be no mixing of complements to neutralize the result. I like to use PB60 (of course) as my blue, but many folks like Ultramarine Blue or Cobalt Blue. Stay away from the Cadmium reds which are all too orange. You'll want to go with something like an Alizarin Crimson. I don't see one on the color chart for Golden Fluid Acrylics, but a Quin Red or Quin Crimson would be a good place to start, depending on the pigments used in those paints, discovered in your investigation.

Which leads me to another issue. I don't find Flame Red listed on the Golden Fluid Acrylics list which makes me wonder if Frank was using a different brand of paint. That might also lead to some issues with blending, drying times, and of course pigment load and quality. So if you're going to start using fluid acrylics I'll say it again—pick a quality brand like Golden. (And I don't get any kickbacks for saying this.)

4. Each piece of board absorbs liquid at a different rate and therefore my results of front and back worked differently. This can be managed by more experience with the board and the liquids, but requires some reactive planning.

I thought this comment was very interesting. I didn't find that my front and backs of the boards were substantially different in how they took the paint or worked up. I think when someone else tries to do for the first time what you do normally you always end up getting feedback like this which can lead to greater understanding for everyone. (I remember the first time I taught people to tear down paper, something I took as second nature I suddenly saw as a complex dance of finger, hand, and arm motions.)

It makes sense to me that the front and back surface of anything will have a slightly different working property. My only defense can be that I was working so quickly it was not sufficient to get my attention.

But since Frank brings it up I say, BEWARE. And, plan, as he and I both suggest.

The other thing that you can do if the different surfaces make difficulties for you is to cover both surfaces with gesso first (as explained in one part of my original post). The gesso, when dry will create a uniform working surface and give you options.

Additionally, the gesso will keep the paint suspended longer and increase the open time of the paint. (The bare board will suck the little moisture in the paint, down into its layers, drying the paint more quickly.)

So gessoing the boards might be a better way for you to attempt this form of board decoration.

5. Even though I covered the pages like you recommended I still used a newspaper sheet under the board I was painting. I did get some paint  on the newsprint when I did the edges. So you might think about suggesting this to your students/friends.

In my September post I show pictures of the books I'm painting on newspaper. The sheets are on the floor so it might not seem clear that I actually painted the boards while the books were on those sheets. (You can see some paint marks on those newspapers if you look closely.) Frank found it essential to work on newspaper to protect his work surface and I can't urge you strongly enough to do so also.

Additionally you'll want to consider protecting your clothing. I have painting clothing, but frankly, some days I just start painting without thinking if I have painting clothing on and the end result is that most clothing I have has some acrylic paint or ink on it. If that isn't your style then I suggest you have a painting jumpsuit or smock. Otherwise you're going to be stylistically challenged.

6. I followed your directions and used the liquid acrylic undiluted and it preserved the rich color. However, there was a very slight  bend to the painted board so when the board dried I left the pages wrapped and weighted the journal with a package of copying paper overnight. This flattened the board.

This could be caused by a number of things. Most likely environmental (air temp and humidity) and paint application (thickness of paint). Frank didn't use any water, so that isn't an issue here. His response to handling the issue was correct.

I would recommend, however that when weighting a book in this fashion you wait at least 90 minutes for the covers to dry (again it will depend on the air temperature and humidity and the amount of water you used) and then insert either glassine or wax paper on both the insides and outsides of the boards so that they don't stick to each other during the pressing, or the objects you weight them with, or your table.

Once the acrylic paint has really cured the pages and boards aren't going to stick together—which is one of the reasons I use the fluid acrylics instead of the tube acrylics. With the latter you have to use more water or medium to make them move and they already contain more medium and the end result is something more plastic and sticky—in perpetuity.

7. I painted the Prussian Blue over the dried green on the cover and kinda like the effect. What do you think?

I like both of Frank's covers! One of the interesting things about fluid acrylics is that you can paint in glazes creating rich, textured covers that you can get lost in when gazing into them. This of course requires more patience because of the drying time needed in between layers. If you want to try this I suggest a dry complete layer (with as little moisture as possible, as suggested in my first post). Additional layers can be more diluted because you have sealed the board with the first layer. You can still do dry brush strokes and such, but your approach to blending focuses on the colors you layer, rather than blending paint side by side, so to speak.

8. I have another 7 x 7 inch Stonehenge wire-bound journal so I'll try the process again because I like trying to solve the problems. I promise to send the results with a narrative of my adventure!

Thank you Frank, for diving in there and giving it a try. I look forward to seeing what you do with the next book. And I appreciate your willingness to share your results with others. I hope you enjoy this new journal and have great fun filling it up with a visual record of your life!

9. It was fun doing the trying and of course I learned something, which I guess is good.

If it was fun, I think that's important. The learning is also important. Often we don't try a new technique or art material because we are concerned about the results, unsure about how to proceed. You can have the most detailed instructions in front of you to follow, but because there are variables that can't be constant as mentioned above, some differences will arise. What happens is that in focusing on those variables and responding to them to get the result we have in our mind's eye, we learn how to manipulate the materials.

This is something you cannot do simply by reading. You must get your hands dirty like Frank did.

I will try in the near future to make a video of me painting a cover—not just so you can see how I do it (which will augment the reading of my instructions and the images I've posted) but because real-time often helps things click in the mind. Also, it will be pretty darn funny to see me rolling around on the floor which is where I work when doing stuff like this.

I still hope to make it in the comedy arts!

I'm Broken—People and the Pen "Dilemma"

Above: Some late night sketches of students from a yearbook, using the Pentel Pocket Brush Pen and a little bit of red Holbein gouache in the background. (Handmade journal 8 x 10 inches, defunct drawing paper.) Click on the image to view an enlargement.

I'm broken. I seem to be spending an awful lot of time sketching people—both live people at places I go and life drawing, and from photos from another time.

Before I go on about the series I've been working on (which involves people) I thought it would be fun to share these two journal pages which were made after the Portrait Party when practice was no longer urgent, and when I could have returned to dogs. 

There is something very fun about wielding the Pentel Pocket Brush Pen (and I have a post coming up about that too, but that's a topic for another day or this will be a mega post!). Throughout the practice for the Portrait Party, starting back in November and December of 2010 I was working with a Faber-Castel Pitt Artist Calligraphy Pen. I think that in 6 weeks I went through about 8 pens—I mean I wore them out and ran them out to dryness!

I loved that Calligraphy pen and I got some fun drawings out of it. But more than any other pen I have ever used there were just days when it was sort of lead in my hand (and I don't mean graphite). There wasn't any angle or any pressure that I could use to make it create a line I would enjoy. Then the next day all was happy again. (This dog sketch with the Faber-Castel Pitt Artist Calligraphy Pen is one of my favorite—everything was working out just right.)

I have thought and thought about it and don't know what is up with that, except that I take full responsibility for it and think it must be related to the lack of chocolate on any given day.

Mystery solved.

The Faber-Castel Pit Artist Calligraphy Pen remains one of my favorite pens, especially if I am sketching on Rives BFK or that Bogus stuff (but the old bogus not the new stuff, so there you have it).

Revving up for the Portrait Party I started to get a bit stressed as I had too many deadlines the week before and I had to redo the templates because of margin issues with the binding selection—small things that shouldn't take any time at all, but since I didn't have any time at all they seemed HUGE. And then I was sketching on Sunday morning and I felt it. I choked. I drew a sketch of a friend and it was trash. Then later I drew a couple celebrities while I was watching TV. Beyond trash. Then I thought, this is not going to work and I'm going to have to switch pens.

I did exactly that. I picked up a Pentel Pocket Brush Pen and did a 2-minute sketch that actually looked like someone and sighed in relief. To test out my theory of which pen to take I did a practice sketch of Dick on Monday morning. The first one didn't look like him but the line was good. The second one, if one accounts for little warm up and some early morning eye issues with focusing and measuring, sealed the deal.

I drew with the Pentel Pocket Brush Pen that evening at the party. (The paper wasn't what I had been practicing on. It was slicker so the sketch was loose and fast, but I was happy with it. While it didn't look a lot like Clare you could see some of Clare there, and she was happy. By the way, she has a beautiful nose I hope to get another chance to draw. That's the thing with drawing—you keep finding lovely things that call to you.)

So then what do I do when the party is a wrap? I come home and put stuff away. And then sit down and draw more people from an old yearbook. That's what you see today (two of my favorite spreads from the next day).

For me these sketches were about creating a line, not even a likeness. Just reconnecting with this pen, which is one I haven't used much since the conk on the head last year. I've missed this pen.

Now I can't stop using it again, which is fine. But I also can't stop drawing these faces from yearbooks. They make me happy.

This post actually does lead up to something and I'll have more to say about drawing from photographs later, but you'll have to wait for another day to find out what that is.

Go draw something that makes you happy! Don't worry if what you draw looks like what you were looking at. If you are really observing some portion of even the loosest drawing will show a likeness through even the darkest mess. The important thing, however, is to simply enjoy the process—the glide (or drag, depending on the paper) of the pen, the motion of your arm, the sound, the swoop, and of course, the smell of the paper. Just take all those things in, because if you do, you'll be back tomorrow to do it all over again, and again. And you'll see more and more truth in your lines. It won't matter if it isn't obvious to everyone else. You'll get it. That's the euphoria. You won't care if you're broken.

Above: Another couple of late night sketches from the same evening; also Pentel Pocket Brush Pen and some Holbein gouache. (I use Holbein in my journals sometimes when I want to get a chalkier look. Holbein doesn't rewet as well as my two favorite gouache paints: Schmincke and M. Graham). (Note: Hoedown is evidently one word and I wasn't sure when I wrote it on the page. My notes on the page relate to the television shows I'm watching/listening to as I sketch. You know, it's sort of like being in the wilderness and sketching birds and writing about something totally unrelated like a book I might be in the middle of, or a class idea I have, or a recipe I want to change.) Click on the image to view an enlargement.

One More Dog Sketch

Above: Bulldog sketch; Staedtler Pigment Liner and Schmincke Gouache, in a journal I made with Arches Text Wove (Velin Arches). Click on the image to view an enlargement.

I'm working on three rather long posts for the blog—none of which is ready for today. I thought another dog sketch might entertain you until the other posts are completed. This sketch was made on a cold night in December when I couldn't get out and sketch—using photos from a dog-park visit I had taken, put up on my computer screen. Beats not sketching, but it sure isn't as fun as hearing the panting and getting covered with fur and slobber.

Sunday night Dick and I took video of me stitching the remaining Portrait Party books, so I'll be able to post that and some additional instructions (probably next week). During my b-day week I've been sketching and painting with gouache, while getting my thoughts together for a gouache demo I am doing in February. There's a long post on that because the way I'm painting is not the way I'll be talking about painting. Odd right? Well it made sense at the time. And I have a bunch of stuff to say about television, movies, and some more materials I just got to test (including a fun paper that I painted those gouache paintings on). You get the idea—much more to come. Thanks for checking in.

Now that all the Portrait Part books are bound I can actually see my work table again! That's a good sign.

Have a great Monday. If it's too cold where you are to get out for much sketching, stop on your way home from work and treat yourself to a few flowers—just some unusual ones that have interesting shapes and negative space, to draw! Three odd flowers aren't going to break the budget (I'm not advocating getting an arrangement). Stay away from those little fiddly filler flowers. Go for the bold large flowers you can sit back from and draw with broad strokes to fill your page. Splash some color around or make bold strokes with a watersoluble crayon. The light is changing. The days are getting longer. Spring is coming. Prepare with bold strokes.

Snow, Snow, Snow—It's Beautiful

Last year, in the 2009-2010 winter my friend Ken Avidor started posting piles of plowed snow. When he draws them they are living entities. Inspired by his interest in snow piles I kept my eye out for my own. I captured the remains of a mega snow pile last week and have posted it over on Urban Sketchers—Twin Cities. (The first link will take you to the sketch, the second link will take you to the blog's home page where you can scoll down and see some of Ken's snow sketches.)

According to "Weather Dock" on my computer it is 12 degrees F right now and it feels like -3. I  won't be going out again today to check it out. I have a lot of work to do inside, and we just made some chocolate chip cookies. I'm going to make ice cream sandwiches. Last week I celebrated my birthday and while I couldn't convince Dick that we should have another go at "the-year-of-daily-gift-giving," he was game enough to extend the celebration to today's cookie fest. (Friday we went out for Pot Roast at the Modern Cafe, Saturday we went to the movies and had Chocolate, Chocolate Cake, and today…well I've already explained what I'm going to be up to as soon as I hit "publish.")

Enjoy the weather you have. There's something beautiful about it. (And that comes from a woman who has stood hundreds of hours in torrential rains in the wilderness with her dog—one word makes it all OK—Gortex. OK, before I had Gortex I just had Emma, and frankly she's all it took.)

Let's End the Week with a Dog

Above: Just what the caption says, an English Toy Spaniel. Arches Text Wove (Velin Arches) paper bound into a book that's 7 x 9 inches or so, and was volume Q10. Pentel Pocket Brush Pen. Click on the image to view an enlargement.

Let's end the week with this quick dog sketch from the end of 2010. Some dogs really say it all in their expression! Unfortunately I forgot to note down the colors of this dog, but it was a Blenheim (sp?) so that will probably give me an idea for coloration if I look it up. Thing is, after I finished the sketch I just didn't want to add color.

Walk away from one of your sketches today. The focus says what you want; you made one good line; you feel you've said enough—whatever, just stop. Look at it again another day (next week) and decide how you'll change your approach next time. Will you have a different focus; will you work in color instead of black and white, or vice versa; will texture be important; will you use a different pen and capture a different quality. So many fun decisions to make. Over and over again.

Yep, I Make My Own Jewelry

Left: Dinopendant (plastic toy) with carnelian, jasper, bone, and horn beads, with base metal chain and wire-wrapping. Click on the image to view and enlargement.

Sometimes I take breaks from sketching and make my own jewelry. I like to bead and I like to wire wrap. I avoid most techniques which involve heat (because I don't like the smells and I don't want to wear out my eyes—even with protection I'm worried about torches causing cataracts). But that still leaves my whimsy a lot of leeway.

I got the best comments from the 5- to 10-year-old group when I wore this at various times in the last two months of 2010.

Exercise your whimsy today. Make something, paint something, sketch something that reflects who you are.