We had our second clothed figure drawing class session yesterday.

Being a class with a model, it’s a hit or miss, at least for me. I personally find it tricky to draw or paint a model who doesn’t make me respond with a desire to render them.
Last week we had a young pretty model (not a good start) who was wearing a black dress (not very inspiring) with long slits along the legs (OK, maybe there’s hope) with some scarlet fabric showing through (getting better!) and a straw hat (Yay!!).

However – despite the wonderful possibilities her outfit had to offer, the teacher asked her to just sit in a chair. One single boring pose for the whole time. He also made her take off the hat, as it covers her face. The black dress made her look like a pile of dark, and the sitting pose was so uninspiring that it started a domino effect of people sneaking out. I managed to paint a bit with watercolors, but after two additional attempts I left. There was still more than an hour till the end of class.

I know, I know, some will say an artist has to adjust to whatever the circumstances are and make the most out of the model and the painting time. Well, not this artist. If no inspiration nor fun are involved, then what’s the point except for getting frustrated?

But yesterday, ahhhh, yesterday we had Chuck. A male model whom – over the 6 years I’ve been doing art here – I came to know quite well. I did so many drawings of him in portrait class and life drawing class and quick sketching class.

He’s a real pro, and – especially in the sketching classes – always brings something special. He once came with roller blades and delighted us with various skating poses, almost splitting his head open. Another time he was a cowboy, with a gun and all (NRA and Palin would’ve had tears of joy and pride). But, I’ve never actually painted him.

Yesterday, he came carrying musical instruments (as, among his other occupations, this guy is playing jazz).

He started with a standing pose, holding a flugelhorn, looking very convincing like someone who’s just taking a short break from playin’.

I didn’t feel like messing with charcoal that day, and so I went for watercolors – to the dismay of the teacher. He always preaches me to paint differently than I the way do, which sometimes annoys the hell out of me as I don’t believe in following someone else’s style of painting. I wanna paint like me, OK?

We only had three session of 15 minutes each for this pose, and when I was done, VallieM and MembieM looked at the painting and claimed they love the expression.

Me? I kinda liked what I ended up with, but to me, he seems to whine (quite justifiably) “what have I ever done to you that you gave me such tiny hands? Why oh why???“. in my defense, let me say that almost everyone who tried to commemorate his hands came up with tiny squirrel-like hands like the ones I did. So there!

The other was a sitting pose. “Oh, just sit in that chair” said the teacher. I was just about to sigh and pack my stuff, expecting last week to déjà vu all over again, but wait – Chuck – being the professional model that he is – pulled it off beautifully, and went for a pose of someone in deep thought, holding his shiny blue saxophone in his lap (I haven’t seen one before either. A blue saxophone, that is. Not a lap!), and looking very weary.

It was just the kind of scene I’d photograph if I saw it in a jazz club, so I cheerfully went for it. This time, I decided to actually draw him first, before going for the paintbrush. The teacher was overjoyed, almost in tears, when he saw me actually using a Pitt pen to render the figure with a quick line, claiming he appreciates what I am doing.

What can I say – it worked. No more deformed hand, no huge head on a tiny body, no reprimanding look from the painted model. And, since I was on a frenzy of listening to the teacher, I stopped in time before ruining the freshness of the quick brush strokes. (OK, I only ruined them a bit).

Being his usual honest self, he said: “I think you like these paintings much more than I do“.

OK. At least when he says something good, I know he really means it.

But hey, the good news is that Chuck agreed to have his picture taken, so I went paparazzi on him. Now that I have reference photos and the on-loctaion sketch, the sky is the limit. No?

…actually spending time at my studio, seriously painting, and painting seriously.

Really. I am! 

The upcoming show of our watercolor organizations has sent me in there in a frenzy of organizing my work areas and clearing the enormous piles of, well, stuff, that were breaking new records of mess and were miraculously balanced on every surface possible.

So, no more of that.

My table is now adorned with the happy mess of paints and brushes and water buckets and all that healthy disorder that comes with painting.

And I have two paintings in the making – I am just trying to come to a stage that they’re presentable enough to be posted.Soon. Very soon.

Amazing, how much work is put into a show that is on display for less than two days!

You go through the process of selecting the artwork to submit, a process garnished with extreme self-criticism over the quality and its chances to make it in. (being a juried show).

You send in the photos, pay the entry fee and then spend days sweating blood and biting your fingernails over whether it will be accepted or not.

Then you get the answers, and you mat and frame your art. (not an easy task sans fingernails).

Theeeeeen you deliver it for the receiving process.

Theeeeeeeeeeeeeen you hang the show (’cause you forget what a tough job it was last year, ’cause LimaB is in charge of the hanging and you want to help her, and ’cause you secretly admit to yourself that there’s an immense satisfaction in that labor once it’s all done). It takes 6 hours, you go home all scratched from metal frames and un-taped wire ends, swearing you’ll never ever do it again.

Four hours later, you put on something presentable and try your best to look refreshed for the reception – scratches and all.

The day after, you get up early to do gallery sitting (’cause you volunteered….). Your romantic vision of spending the time chattign to art appreciators turns into a nightmarish policing due to little kids who insist on plucking seashells off a certain artwork and playing catch amongst the panels. Their parents, needless to say, don’t bother to keep an eye on their unleashed offsrpings, as they are too busy themselves caressing other textural pieces or sneaking forbidden photos. You transform into a reprimanding monster, repeating the mantra “Please DO NOT touch the art“. Soon enough, the word “Please” is omitted from your vocabulary. After an eternity (OK – four hours) of that kind of fun, you go home, swearing you’ll never ever…

The day after, you go to pick up your artwork. Of course nothing sold – why would it? and you have a nice chocolaty handprint on your painting. you go home, swearing you’ll never…

The day after, you go to drop your winning painting at the community center, where it will be on display for the next 2 months along with the other winners.

Oh yeah… I got an Honorable Mention on my “Dust to Dust” piece.

You think “hmm… maybe, after all, I will do it again next time“.

Opening the door, he stands in the main room, holding the keys.

He is wearing his Tuesday tie, the one that matches his vest so well, and yet nobody has ever noticed it nor stopped to compliment him on his choice.

The only times they talk to him is when they cannot find something. Even then, they don’t see him. Not really. He is merely an answering apparatus. They have no idea he won first place in that competition. They don’t know he carries the certificate in his breast pocket, in case someone, some day, asks him.

27 years in the same place; day in, day out, 6 days a week. How many mornings is that?

He looks around him at the painfully familiar surroundings, and goes to unlock the cash register.

Perhaps today will be different.

Some of you asked if I would post what I wrote about my pieces in the “Earth Expressions” show.

As I stated, we were asked to write a short statement that relates the artwork to the theme of the show. Many of the artists chose to skip it, which I can relate to, as I personally don’t like to explain my art. I’d rather let my art speak for itself. One reason is that my art doesn’t have the accent that I do when I speak English. But moreover, I think that giving a very explicit title to your work or saying too much about it, prevents the viewers from interpreting it in their own ways, which are always fascinating to follow.  Imagine ‘The Mona Lisa’ was titled ‘The Mona Lisa smiles because she has such bad teeth’. Now, wouldn’t that take away all the mystery and reduce it to be yet-another-portrait?

Still, being the highly obedient me (for the readers who know me – please do not choke on that last statement…), I decided to give it a go, and found it to be a fun experience: putting in words what I’ve put with my brush (or printer) on the paper.

As I said, The JohnnyB was a tremendous help (both finding tittles and what to write) – he even expanded his services to gallantly come to the rescue of a lovely maiden who was also fighting with this kind of writing. Hmm… dare I think he was also enjoying it?

Thing is, once I got into it, I became unstoppable, so the 2-sentence-only limitaton was actually an even better exercise at being succinct. Kinda like writing a haiku.

And so, there we go.  Uhm… ah… (just clearnihg my throat here).

(To Bill of the On Painting blog, the title for this one is 100% courtesy of The JohnnyB, and I do thoroughly apologize if the folowing statement shatters your bloody vision of me killing my models…)

You can find my art blog here: Unchain My Art

or

my other blog, right here: Thoughts in the USA