Last day of life drawing for this semester. I’ve missed several classes, something I would have been loathe to do in my high school and college years when I never ditched nor dropped a class.
I distinctly remember the first time I stopped attending a class simply because I no longer enjoyed it. Wish I could say it was a daring and rebellious move . . . it was a community college class that I was taking just for enjoyment. I was in my 40’s and high time for a bit of rebellion . . . don’t you think?
But I digress . . . here’s the best of the last sketches . . . in my opinion
All these sketches were 20 minutes or less. I’ve discovered that my attention span is smack dab in the national average of 20 minutes. Ah . . . the things you learn in drawing class.
I have little energy and my hip is sore . Usually, I stand at the easel when drawing but my hip is so sore this week I sat. I’ve been stretching my hip and back every day but scritching and scratching at the art.
When the teacher saw this she commented that it looked like someone sitting at a bus stop! She said it kindly and I agreed. So I quickly scribbled, skritched and scratched over the original. At least now it looks like the bus has just arrived.
This was an exercise on finding reference points in the room to draw the figure. I spent so long finding the points that I didn’t have time for the figure!
I was fading fast and so were my drawings!
Hopefully, next class, instead of scritch and scratch I’ll stretch with the art.
“If anybody wants me to say it, in one sentence, what my plays are about: They’re about the nature of identity. Who we are, how we permit ourselves to be viewed, how we permit ourselves to view ourselves, how we practice identity or lack of identity.” Edward Albee
Most of the models in the life drawing classes have been posing for a long time. They come equipped with props and pillows and strike dramatic poses that I defy anyone in “real” life to take . . . unless you’re an exotic dancer.
The young man, VERY young man, who was the model in the last two life drawing classes had never modeled before. He appeared to be shy and very unsure of himself.The first session he posed stiffly.
This second session he began to soften, wrapping his arms around himself as if to create a bit of comfort or perhaps protection. It may also have been that it was cold in the room . . . even for those of us wearing clothes.
Art teachers explain that drawing isn’t about what the hand is doing it’s about training our eye to see what it actually sees rather than the internal image of what we THINK we see.
Right now my drawings are about trying to learn to view shapes and shadows, lines and limbs . . . and hopefully have my hands follow. Someday, it would be nice to say the same thing Edward Albee said . . . that my drawings are about the nature of identity.