Part of what I like so much about drawing is that it focuses my attention on the present moment. Few things other than sketching from life force me to slow down and really look at the form and detail of everyday things – stuff I’d probably take for granted otherwise. It’s a little like meditation, of being an observer, a witness, engaging the reality in my vicinity. I also like the fact that, unlike “normal” observation, it requires a learned discipline: does this sketch actually resemble the thing I’m looking at? If not, why? How did I screw it up? The sketch is bound by the common rules of communication. Yet, accurately depicting observable reality is only half the equation at best, otherwise just taking a photograph would do the trick. The fact that eye and hand interpret information from eye and mind in a sketch, selecting interesting from uninteresting, necessarily simplifying the limitless multitude of visual data down to a few strokes of a pencil makes the whole endeavor a bit of a risky challenge. Why would an artist choose to draw this and not that? Why include these details and not those? What is it about this subject or this moment that was worthy of taking the time to try and put on paper? Why compose the objects this way on the paper and not that way? Sometimes the question has a logical answer and sometimes it doesn’t. The fact that the question can’t be answered doesn’t illegitimate or negate the value of a drawing, but may in fact point directly to the wiggly, non-verbal aspect of consciousness. There’s a strong understanding in Buddhist and Taoist circles that the non-verbal, non-rational and experiential is closer to the real. “The Tao that can be spoken of is not the true Tao.” Or in more western terms, “The name of the thing is not the same as the thing itself,” which sounds ridiculous and stupidly obvious except for the fact that most of us fritter away our conscious hours imagining, manipulating and replaying names, symbols and ideas completely oblivious to the nameless direct experience happening right under our noses. For me, even if the sketch I’m doing stinks, the experience of doing it slaps me back to this realm of the real. And it’s fun.
This is Mushu…
She’s the perfect live subject: she strikes a cool pose, holds it for ten or fifteen minutes, then in the blink of an eye strikes another one. We’ve been using the pronoun “she”, but there’s no way to tell for sure, I’m told, with a water dragon this young. Oh, and she eats 24 small crickets a day!
Today was a great day. Hanging out with the kids and wife, going to a friend’s house in the afternoon to take a swim in their pool (they’re out of town and nice enough to share). There’s something about the smell of sunscreen and chlorinated pool water that reminds me of childhood summers in the North Valley where swimming pools were so ubiquitous that when the Sylmar Quake hit the streets were drenched with water dumped from sloshing pools. Anyway, I made a little sketch after I got out of the water as the kids played – it’s as near as I’ve come to a self-portrait on this site yet (just the feet!). Here’s hoping everyone else had an equally fine three day weekend.
My friend and fellow board artist, Pete Von Sholly, has a bunch of his work featured at Palaeoblog, and an interview with him at Buried.com. Very fun, worth checking out.
We went back to put some pollywogs back with their brothers and sisters, and collect some more. We forgot the net, so Jack caught about 10 or so more with his hands. As usual he keeps moving, so sketching him is quite the challenge. Kids are all about motion, that’s for sure.
Robert McGinnis is a national treasure. I’ve only recently come to realize that I’ve known his work just about all my life, but didn’t know that all of it was the work of the same man. And, as frequently is the case, the more I looked into it the more impressed I’ve become. He’s nearly 80 years old now, and the body of work he’s created over the years shines like a brilliant diamond. Everything he draws and paints has that rare combination of seemingly effortless spontaneity and technical perfection.
Some of his books:
Paperback Covers
Paintings
I actually drew this standing up, holding the sketchbook in one hand and a pencil in the other. Easy to goof it up.
Over the weekend we all hiked up the hill behind our neighborhood into the woods. There were several small waterfalls and lots of little streams. The kids caught pollywogs to take to school and watch as they turn into frogs to be set back loose in the woods.
We were enjoying some healthy shakes (peanut butter) sitting behind the famous Date Shack off Pacific Coast Highway, with a nice view down the cliff to the ocean below and Crystal Cove. I had my handy sketchbook with me and so–.
Anthony Zierhut 