DCs in graphite

klee's watch plants resonated with these drawings of the wild carrots: the first one done on day 2; the last one done on day 7. so, any changes to be observed are clearly due to the plant growing, flowering and moving from bud to seed pot; and not with any inability on my part to observe or draw accurately, of course!

daucus carota, day 2 and day 7, graphite on paper (a2)

Tree markings

Ink in Moleskine, 24x21cm

Still leafing through my sketchbook from late December, here are a few ink drawings of trees. They are life drawings, so to speak: trying to observe closely while still trying to capture something of the trees' anatomy.
Some royal blue ink and a thick bamboo nib were my treats on my last visit to the art shop before I had left Glasgow.
There is something so definite about ink - unlike pencil and graphite - that makes it exciting to experiment with. No ability to erase but only to rework.

Ink in Moleskine, 24x21cm

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The difference a bit of sunshine makes...

Continuing with some applied simple observations, here's a rough and ready sketch from Ross-on-Wye, Herefordshire from the weekend. Rolling landscapes on moleskine (with some incidental acrylics thrown in), while we were waiting for our lunch.

Ross-on-Wye, 21x14 cm
Graphite and neopastel in Moleskine

Just have a look at the two reference photos... one without sunshine and one with... It's the kind of really simple observations, but again: captured on photo just amplifies the difference not only the shades make to the whole scene but also the difference in light and tone of tree lines and water reflections.

Movement and stillness

Cloud above the hut

This post has been lingering with intent in my draft folder since mid-summer. Written in part as response to my visit to Germany in July, it was initially called Familiar Criticism. Yet, as part of last week's visit to Germany I thought it was time to post and to rename.

Much of my cloud studies were done in haste: noting down quickly the fast movement of clouds, sun and shade above the roofs opposite my flat. Because of its nearness and small window to the sky, the formations changed even more rapidly than the usual West Coast breeze makes them change in any case. Often, it took me three rapid sketches to get to a some of the patterning that I was after. Similarly, when painting outside in summer in the Highlands - the key was to get down quickly that what was going to change even more quickly: sun/shade and clouds - the impressions rather than the structures.

The challenge of working fast is one that I enjoyed very much. And it is here that the familiar criticism comes into play: it's the experiences, knowledge and along with them assumption of one's personality and character traits that are being applied to something new - in this case, my paintings. So, following a couple of days teasing of how fast (and in my family that also means: impatient) I was, it started to grate... the stories of me going through five paintings in kindergarten stopped being funny. Excessive sensibilities on my part? I'm not too sure.

And it was this tension between movement, speed and stillness that I got reminded of when walking last Friday through an autumnal countryside. In particular: how slow the sky was moving... there was a huge sky - views up to the horizon line and everywhere I looked movement was slow, almost difficult to figure out: clouds remained almost stationary, shade fell in the same spots for long times.

Of course, the clouds were moving, but much slower than what I got used to. Now: the big question is whether I would draw them any slower than I got used to? Well, I need to try that out the next time. Again, though it was an insight into the responsive way of doing art - so much of my sky studies resulted from the position to paint chosen, the materials chosen and the speed with which clouds tend to move across Glasgow.

Bubbling above the surface

Keeping writing... keeping painting

WTTS #13, mixed media on WC paper, 5x8cm


Since I started writing here, I've come across an increasing range of other blogs - many of them are fascinating and the ability to go back frequently to see new posts and comments has been a true insight for a new use of the internet that I did not appreciate beforehand.
One post I came across today and which perfectly brought up a number of issues relating to writing entries on the blog is on Katherine Tyrrell's Making a Mark blog.
In Making a Mark: How do I find things to blog about? Katherine offers a detailed list of how to find topics to write about, how to organise ideas and entries. I had to smile particularly at her suggestions that, when one starts one wants to present all knowledge in one go - rather than breaking it up and organising it more sequentially, narratively - I perfectly remember the desire to have everything on the page at once without much patience of letting things build up. Partly, that probably came from a bit of anxiety and apprehension that I would run out of things to say.
Reading Katherine's post however, made me understand more clearly, that, of course, as well as with most other things, curiosity is created in the process of exploring something - which throws up more questions, and more openings.
In this, blogging is very similar to actual painting/sketching. When I started drawing, I could not for the life of me find things to draw - as if the translation between what I would see everywhere around me to something I would try and put down on paper just didn't exist. With time, it was fascinating to see how suddenly everything around could turn into something to draw/paint - suddenly the overripe pear in the fruit bowl transformed itself into a fascinating still life and the grey low clouds starting showing off their yellow, blues and purples.

Sky and cloud studies

After having drawn, sketched and painted a few of the mixed media sky studies in pastel, pencil, pen, watersoluble graphite and neopastels, I assembled them in a collage. I've been making these small studies of skies and clouds for the past couple of weeks (see my first post on this here). Most of them were done in the morning from my living room window. But I continued with them when I was in Germany.
Most of them are on gessoed bristol board which I had prepared for pastel paintings - the vast majority of them are small, ranging from 6x8cm to 15x15cm, with only a couple the size of my sketchbook or A4.


Collage of Window to the Sky studies #1-24

This has been a curious experience, in terms of subject matter, medium and scale. As clouds on the Scottish West Coast move pretty fast, it made me look for generic pattern, shape and light quickly and then decide on a couple of formations to get down on paper - I often did one, two or three studies in one go (which helped when the first ones didn't end up the way I'd wanted them). The watersoluble neopastels and graphite pencil have become a firm favourite for sketching - in particular on the prepared board their pigments grip nicely onto the tooth of the paper and produce interesting effects when brushed over with a waterpen:


WTTS #4, mixed media on board, 15x15cm, detail

I did a few evening skies when in Germany, most notably, the pastel sketch Am Abend. After observing and trying to get the skies down on paper, I surprised myself at how easy I found to see colour variation, the subtleties that make clouds appear three dimensional and the various shades of blue, purple and grey that denote good weather clouds or rain.