The Nightingale's Garden

The Nightingale’s Garden
Charcoal, Graphite; 5” x 9”

No scanner handy over the weekend, so this scan represents two sessions, about eight hours’ work. Trying to follow, flesh out the bones of the trees I’d sketched earlier seemed an almost certainly dissatisfying path: I wanted to get out of their way and my own, let these trees to be a product of this session, today’s energy and direction. So I began again, fast and loose– Q-Tips loaded with soft charcoal dust, initial shapes and highlights lifted out with kneaded erasers. Details developed with 6B charcoal pencils, softened & sharpened with more kneaded eraser, Dixon Ticonderoga graphite pencils, grades 1-4.

The last session was a Fussing Day– Cleaning up, smoothing out background and mist with a gazillion or minute adjustments. Kneaded erasers shaped to a very fine point, and a Staedtler Mars Lumograph 6H graphite pencil. The Nightingale’s Garden was done in several sessions over 12 days; total working time was about 22 hours.

Contrast & Consistency

A brief session, with more values brought into line. I look for distractions, too-brights, too-darks, make adjustments with erasers, graphite pencils, Q-Tips. Get carried away, and softly-lit becomes muddy. I’m always looking for that ideal balance between contrast and consistency. Elusive, that one.

Where The Fun Waits

Last night I began with the remaining unfinished area above the middle pool, developing detail, bringing values into line. In these sessions when I’m resuming work on a drawing in progress, I look for the obvious, the first thing I see that clearly needs doing. A way of warming up, maybe: Small decisions before bigger.

The top pool was also unplanned. I’d do a few obvious, then see about the tree– Next thing I knew, there was another pool, and getting bigger, and and.

As usual, there are elements I’m not satisfied with- maybe never will be, not entirely, but I need to remember to leave well enough alone, sometimes- and that’s just what I can see, what seems obvious. What I can’t see yet, though, that’s where the fun waits.

Quick & Dirty

Last night, more cleanup: Brightly lit surfaces, reflections, mist, fades smoothed with graphite pencils, kneaded erasers; and a quick-and-dirty tree roughed in with one of my most indispensible tools, a Sanford Tuff Stuff Eraser Stick. I sharpen the point with a utility knife, emery board or sandpaper to draw out fine lines or refine highlights. If you work in charcoal or graphite, you need one.

Abandoned Flights

Not a lot to show for last night’s drawing time. Tried some things that went nowhere, but at least took awhile- Long day, or maybe I just wasn’t ready. Sometimes you know you’ve approached a new edge, something new, something. You don’t know what, exactly. A half-glimpsed dream you reach after, can’t grasp: The pools at the bottom of this drawing dissolving into a shuffle of architect’s sketches, layered transparencies, possibilities. Fragmented notes you intuit rather than read: Unresolved arcs. No conjoined returns. Eventually, you resign yourself that none of those will happen tonight, you don’t have the energy, clarity to allow them, and you clean up their thinning traces, contrails of those abandoned flights.

No Planning

The drawing went well last night. Hadn’t planned on the pool, or getting all vertical, or much of anything else that happened. Never do, really. Planning’s overrated. If there were a universally recognized symbol for planning I’d get a T-shirt made, a big red slashed-circle NO PLANNING.

What I had thought might happen, sorta, was more of a ruin, emerging from still water, mist. Seemed a good way to go. But I guess I’ve gone there enough for now, because that seemed old news, safe, no fun. And why make art unless it’s fun.

Sure, saleable is good- And for some of us, necessary. But trying to hit that mark… If you’ve got those kinds of chops, that’s a good thing. Me, I've learned to draw what I love, and then think about sales. Because if my heart’s not in it… Well, that’s really all we have to offer, isn’t it: Ourselves, and our best.

For me, a lot of that’s about pushing aside preconceptions, refusing that intellectual overlay- mmn, this element doesn’t really make sense, how can I make it work with the others, that kind of overthinking- that often clouds rather than clears. Usually, if I leave well enough alone, the drawing will move forward in a way that’s satisfying and efficient. So far, so good.

So only a couple things, or at least their beginnings- not a lot, compared to the epic revisings some drawings have suffered- went the way of the Mayans. Who probably didn’t build any of this, even the oldest parts, not their style. You never know though. Maybe some rebellious Mayan princess went rogue on ‘em, blew her inheritance on a second year art student full of revolutionary new ideas, and this got half-built before the money ran out.

Half-hearted sucks. Half-built, though- That’s good. Leaves room for all kinds of possibilities.

Emboldened

I don't post WIPs much. Don't take the time to make in-progress scans, usually; and of course on those occasions when I say hey look what I'm working on, it's gonna be so freaking cool and then the next day I mess up and trash it and people say dude what happened, it's embarrassing. But summer's here- admittedly, that's a statement of faith, but I'm sticking to it- and today I'm feeling emboldened.

Beebe Lake 3

Beebe Lake, Cornell University.

That Morning's Light

That Morning's Light

Charcoal and Graphite; 4 1/8" x 7 1/8"

$700.00

This drawing is available at West End Gallery. If you're interested, call Lin or Hedy at 607. 936.2011.

Magpie Gallery

Ithaca’s newest gallery, Magpie Gallery features the tile products of Loudeac Tile Studio, which produces ceramic and stone tile murals, backsplashes, accent tiles, and wall art permanently imprinted with fine art and photography. Magpie also sells artcards and originals, including a selection of very reasonably priced Paul McMillan miniatures. Reproductions of McMillan’s work are also available on both tile and canvas.

Two of my drawings (below) are up at Magpie. If you’re interested, call Phil McCray at 607.379.0262; or just stop in, say hello, and check it out. Magpie Gallery is located at 108 Dryden Court in Collegetown, fifty paces up Dryden Road from the stoplight, just around the corner from Big Red Barber. Hours: 11am-6pm, Tuesday-Saturday.


Morning Comes To Night's Gates
Charcoal, Graphite; 2 3/4" x 6"
$750.00


At A Turning
Charcoal, Graphite, Ink; 5 1/8" x 6 1/4"
$900.00

Uncut

A snapshot of beginnings, and process- The raw scan of Unfailing, with the undeveloped surroundings cropped from the finished drawing. Click on the jpeg for an enlargement.

Engines Of Dream

Engines Of Dream
Charcoal, Graphite; 5 1/8” x 5 1/8”
$900.

Every now and then, I need to do something like this. Let’s see what happens if, and then, and then. Good days, everything you try seems to work.

When that momentum slows, I’ll find myself overthinking: Deciding some aspect of the drawing doesn’t really make sense, work as well as I’d initially thought with its context, or whatever. Good time to stop, usually. Tomorrow I’ll see more clearly what’s worthwhile.

Fallen

A hard winter on Fall Creek: The path along the south shore of Beebe Lake is torn up, and downstream, the old Hydraulics Lab has finally fallen. Startling to look down from the Thurston Avenue bridge and find it gone. A little sad, too. Before and afters, from the Cornell Sun and Ithaca Journal.

Not far from the bridge, someone's Post-it note, detailing their own hard winter:

I’ve slipped & fallen 5 times
1) black ice 7AM Weill Research
2) down backstairs of Baker Hall coming out of my 1st chem review session
3) in wet, slick, mushy snow on my way to Risley
4) powdery snow & deer to Risley Hall
5) missed a step going down Hollister (math)

Three new drawings- Loch Traignarry Light, Rorrach’s Glen, and Unfailing- will be available at the upcoming exhibition at West End Gallery. Featured artists are Brian Keeler, James Ramsdell, Wilson Ong, and Marc G. Rubin. Opening reception: Friday, March 20, 5:00-7:30; the show runs through April 24. For more, visit westendgallery.net

Unfailing

Unfailing
Graphite and Charcoal
2 1/4" x 4 1/4"
$350.

This drawing is the first of a new series, Beacons. Like most of my recent work, Unfailing was begun with charcoal dust, charcoal pencil; but by the time I'd decided what this drawing might best become, then finished bringing the elements into line- thinning shadow, softening light, smoothing mist- little was left of those charcoal beginnings. Nothing new, that. Often, beginnings are just that: A place to start. And if they don't lead anywhere unexpected, what fun would that be.

Tools include Dixon Ticonderoga pencils, grades 1-4; Staedtler Mars Lumograph pencils, 6H; kneaded erasers. The drawing measures 2 1/4" x 4 1/4", and is mounted in a white mat and matte black wood frame; framed size is 8" x 10". The jpeg should load at about actual size in most browsers.

Unfailing is available through West End Gallery, Corning, NY. If you're interested, call Lin or Hedy at 607.936.2011.

Rorrach's Glen

Rorrach's Glen
Charcoal, Graphite; 5" x 6 7/8"

On Effort

Thinking again about effort. All the drawings I’ve invested time and work in– often, more than I care to remember– before realizing they’re past going anywhere good. Easy to see those abandonded efforts as at least largely wasted; easy to be frustrated, angry at my inefficiency. What’s learned, retained, will find its way into subsequent projects, and that’s something. But it never seems enough.

An early collector of my drawings once told me, “It’s nice to see something someone put some work into.” Yeah. Me too.

Of course, there’s the other side of that coin: Working the life right out of a drawing. Most of the drawings I’ve abandoned have died of overworking. Bad choices that have to do with direction are often correctable. Failing to recognize when something’s as good as I’ll be able to make it is a call I have more trouble making. And by the time I realize my mistake, it’s often hard to undo the damage I’ve done.

Sometimes the best, most lively work is the quickest. I admire painters who can capture the essence of a landscape or likeness very quickly. I wish I could work like that. Keep from getting sidetracked, making wrong turns.

But then, those turnings are why I draw. Without those explorations, whatever discoveries they lead to– some productive, some not so much– there’d just be way too many tiny little marks. Overreaching, falling short is disappointing. But much less is tedium.

The challenge remains the same: To consistently recognize that point when whatever I’m working on, part or whole, is as good as I can make it. When it’s time to dismiss further possibilities, attempts to make this or that just a little better. Time to leave well enough alone.

Sometimes there’s nothing to show for the time, the work, and if I’ve learned anything, I don’t know what. I made the effort, that’s all. And that has to be enough.

No Time For Whiners

Overheard in Borders SF/Fantasy section:
Girl: You know what I hate about this series?
Boy: What?
Girl: The heroine is such a whiny bitch. It's like, 'Rhapsody, just suck it up...' I didn't even get through the third book.

Above the urinal in the men’s at CTB, a Sharpied stick figure, sketchy but conspicuously male, hangs by one arm from a cluster of balloons bearing him aloft. I rise, and piss on you all...

Scrawled on the plywood-covered door of a West Delaney bar:
FARTSLAM TONIGHT! EGG UP!

The Night Watchman's Garden

The Night Watchman's Garden
Graphite, Charcoal; 2 5/8" x 3 5/16"

The Navigator's Dream

The Navigator’s Dream
Charcoal, Graphite; 2 5/8” x 1 5/8”

Restless, the Navigator dreams:
A wider night, uncharted deeps:
No silent stars, but far faint bells:
Could he only learn to still himself enough,
and listen

At 2 5/8" x 1 5/8", this drawing is the smallest I've done in awhile. The jpeg should load at actual size at most browser settings. Both The Navigator's Dream and At Morning's Gates will be in Little Gems.

At Morning's Gates

At Morning’s Gates: Somers Observatory, 1925
Graphite; 4 5/8” x 2 3/8”

Little Gems

February 6 - March 13, 2009
Opening Reception: Friday, February 6, 5:00 - 7:30 PM.
West End Gallery, 12 West Market Street, Corning NY

Top: Edd Tokarz Harnas, Orbit of the Eye; Joanne Sonsire,
Summer Lace. Middle: Parnilla Carpenter, Autumn's Ornaments II;
Mark Reep, Lost Dream. Bottom: Bridget Bossart van Otterloo,
Chili Peppers; G.C. Myers, Light Beings.

For more, visit westendgallery.net

Treman Park

Treman Park, Ithaca, in early October.

Tanglewood In Autumn

Tanglewood Nature Center, Elmira, in early October.

Top Ten Reasons Why I Stipple

10. I can't draw a straight line to save my life

9. I was just trying to bang some life back into my pen, and this happened

8. It runs in the family. And not that many of us were ever institutionalized, at least for long, so it can't be that bad...

7. Chicks dig dots

6. I thought this was a drywalling class

5. It's so weird, somebody's gotta wanna buy it

4. If I screw up, the mistakes are so small nobody'll notice 'em anyway

3. It's wonderfully therapeutic and relaxing, I've become a much calmer, kinder person- Waddya mean I've still got a ways to go? HUH? WADDYA MEAN BY THAT??!!

2. Hey, I may be legally blind, but at least I qualify for disability now

1. Helen Hunt said it best, on Mad About You: I'm not nuts- I'm THOROUGH.

Aleta Wynn Yarrow

Aleta Wynn Yarrow, Guardians
Acrylic; 18" x 36"

This month, West End Gallery showcases Aleta Wynn Yarrow. At first glance, our work may not seem to have a lot in common- For starters, Aleta’s is often bold and colorful; mine, well, not so much. But our work shares, I think, some essential themes: An appreciation of nature’s beauty, of the value of quiet places, quiet times, and the importance of mysteries and dreams. Aleta’s work has always seemed to me to be both uncompromisingly personal and consistently positive, and I Dream of Ordinary Things continues to reflect these qualities, too. The show will be up through January 10. For more, visit Aleta’s website.

More on quiet places, time alone at G. C. Myers’ Redtree Times.

Lightfall

Lightfall
Charcoal, Graphite, Ink; 2008
8 1/2" x 5 1/4", 14" x 11" frame
$1200.00

This drawing will also be in the Sparkle of Christmas show at West End Gallery.

Tattoo 2

Tattoo 2
Ink; 1" x 3"
2004

Two short prose pieces, The Umbrella of the Future and Alder Run, are up at Ink Sweat and Tears.

Hawthorn

Hawthorn
Ink, Graphite, Charcoal; 5 5/16" x 2 5/16"
2004

Looking for unframed work for the show at WEG, I found a few other things I'd forgotten. Time and distance bring new perspective- Not always kind, but usually instructive. And sometimes, there are pleasant surprises, too.

Elsewhere, things are going swimmingly at Lara Pawson's new blog, Museum of Doubt. And yes, that's a Markie, and I'm honored.

New to the links list is G. C. Myers' blog Redtree Times. RT is very Gary: Thoughtful, engaging, encouraging, generous with reflection and insight into his approach to artmaking and the life of a working artist. Good stuff.

Good stuff too at Gloom Cupboard #69: New poems by Justin Hyde, Emily Smith, Alishya Almeida, Mignon Ariel King, and my drawing-and-text Lost Dream.

Inn of the Seven Graces

Inn of the Seven Graces
Charcoal, Graphite; 5" x 4"; 10" x 8" framed. $800.00

Enlarged for detail; the drawing's actual size is 5" x 4".

Parnilla Carpenter

Parnilla Carpenter, Autumn Lights
Colored Pencil, 6 1/2" x 4 1/2"

Two Weeks Gone

A Watkins Glen gorge trail, on a warm autumn afternoon two weeks gone; and last summer's first hot day: Saturday Morning, in Gloom Cupboard # 63.

Two poems by Read This editor Claire Askew: Christopher’s Wren, at Pomegranate, and Homecoming, at Claire’s poets’ community One Night Stanzas.

Playing: Dave Martone's Clean, with guests Jennifer Batten, Billy Sheehan.

Armageddon Monks

For us, the highlight of September’s Porchfest, an eclectic afternoon of music played on porches throughout Ithaca’s Fall Creek neighborhood, was an acoustic set by Armageddon Monks. First time we’d heard them play, but it won’t be the last. Their self-titled 2007 CD Armageddon Monks, a collection of new recordings of the band’s favorite tracks from earlier releases, is available on their website, at Amazon.com, and other online retailers; each track is also available as a 99¢ MP3 download.

Their website characterizes their sound as metal-influenced rock, blending oldschool metal influences with modern rock melodies and structures–Not always an easy mix, but these guys make it all work, and seamlessly.

Armageddon Monks is a kickass CD–Well-written songs, great performances and production, no filler here. Personal recommends if you’re previewing online: Lines, Long Way Down, Where We Lie, Get Your Fill, Come Inside, No Day Like Tomorrow. Check out the samples, and download City Limits, an EP of five demo tracks for an upcoming CD–It’s available as a free download here.

Links:
http://www.armageddonmonks.com
www.myspace.com/amonks
City Limits EP

Watkins Glen

Watkins Glen, NY. I'm always a little amazed, not only by the beauty of the gorge itself, but by the skill and scope of the stonework that allows the access most of us take for granted now. Regional landscape architect Herbert Blanche said in 1933 that “the best executed project is one that is least apparent in the landscape,” and after the disastrous flood of 1935 washed out most of the existing concrete stairs and metal railings, the gorge trail was reconstructed with native stone. Its striated, flowing walls are an artful extension of the gorge’s own; often, it’s hard to tell where nature’s work ends, masonry begins. I’ve great respect for the masons who built, who continue to maintain and improve the winding steps, bridges, miles of walkways throughout the Fingerlakes gorges and parks.

Walls of Stone

From the Gun Factory's abandoned waterway, overlooking Fall Creek Gorge.

Stations Lost

It’s not like I want to live in this house. I just want to sit on that porch awhile, watch the evening storms coming across the hills. Can’t you imagine us doing that? Kicking back with a couple cold beers, the Mets game fading in and out on a tinny transistor radio. You can’t put it down or the station’s lost, you have to keep working the tuner, waiting–What happened, did you catch that? Lindsey Nelson on the play-by-play, Ralph Kiner doing color: “Eleven strikeouts already for Seaver, and we’re only in the seventh.”

Table For Two

Eddy Dam Footbridge

Eddy Dam Footbridge, upper Cascadilla.

Thirty Steps

Between Uris and Ives; at the top of the steps, Tower Road.

A Lovely Ruin

The path from Risley Hall down into the Fall Creek gorge (see Autumn Gorge, on the Risley website) is steep, stony, needs work. Where the path crosses the first runoff, a stone slab that formed a tiny footbridge has fallen into a narrow channel lined with crumbling stonework, choked with rubble. The bridge seems a lost cause, but if I’d brought tools, I could happily spend the afternoon down here, grading the path, clearing brush and fallen trees.

Today though, we’ve brought only Parni’s camera, my tripod, a notebook, a pen. Half an hour, several photos, and my reservations about carrying a tripod are forgotten; already it seems indispensable again.

Making my way along the water’s edge, stopping now and then to look up at the underside of the Thurston Avenue bridge from this novel perspective, I realize that being down here in the gorge seems a much more private experience than I’d have expected. We’ve only encountered three people so far, two guys and a girl coming back downstream; but it’s more that the gorge is so deep here, the bridge deck so far above us that the people looking down from the railings register only briefly, don’t matter. You don’t feel watched.

Across a wide sunny expanse of ledge, a mosaic whose meaning eludes me for a moment: Then the many small bits of shale coalesce, become big letters spelling out a greeting to be read from above: HEY ANDREW.

A last turning of the gorge, and our walk upstream ends at Triphammer Falls and the abandoned Hydraulics Lab. The lab, built at the turn of the last century, has been condemned and closed to the public for nearly forty years. But what a lovely ruin it remains.

M. John Harrison is blogging again, this time at the Ambient Hotel.

Short story: MJH’s ‘Cocking A Snook’, from the archives of Barbara Campbell’s 1001 Nights.

Baker and Boldt

A gray afternoon and a colorless sky, one I'm tempted to try sweetening some with Photoshop. But I like too the way the misty light complements the architecture, softens rooflines and chimneys. North Baker Hall, Boldt Hall, West Campus, Cornell.

Beebe Lake

Beebe Lake 1
Along the south shore of Beebe Lake, on the Cornell University campus. Parni’s photo, my edit.

When Parni first suggested we take her camera for a walk, I thought she might be taking most of the photos. I hadn’t carried a camera for years, partly because I’d found that for me, taking photos often got in the way: Walks became less about simply experiencing and enjoying a place, a day, and mostly about taking photos. I needn’t have worried, it’s all been good: Bringing the camera along has added a new and exciting element to our explorations, and been Big Fun for me too­. And so far, I’ve kept my impulses toward thorough (I’ve never become entirely comfortable with obsessive) in the pocket.

It’s been interesting to note how much less time and effort I’m putting into taking photos than I would have a few years ago. No tripod, no careful setups, just freehand snaps with the camera on Auto. I haven’t learned how to change its settings yet, mess with exposure, shutter speeds. Seems a good thing to let all that go for now, let the little camera do its thing. Less work, more fun–What’s not to like?

Of course, part of why I’m okay with throttling back on the in-camera thorough is because I can control the post-camera process in a way I never could when I was shooting film and sending it off to be developed and printed. I find I’m treating many of our files as raw material, essentially–Let’s see what we got today, what I can do with this one in Photoshop.

Beebe Lake 2
The path continues along Beebe Lake’s north shore. Parni’s photo, my edit.

Most of what I’ve done with these photos of Parni’s is subtractive–With Beebe Lake 2, radically so. In both cases, though, I looked for those elements that seemed to me at the heart of the image’s appeal, and cropped until all they seemed balanced, in harmony, and no distractions remained.

I’ve always liked panoramas, but never drawn them much. Maybe I’ve needed to explore them in another media; maybe the experience of working with this kind of format digitally will have its effect on whatever happens at the drawing table.

If not, that’s fine too. There are things I want to draw, and things I want to photograph, and they’ve never overlapped much. At the moment, I’m enjoying both media again, and I’m looking forward to our next walk.

Admiring: James Gurney’s plein-air watercolor of Maison d’ Ailleurs, “a museum of science fiction, utopia and extraordinary journeys” in Yverdon, Switzerland. “Return to Dinotopia”, a new exhibition featuring over 50 of Gurney’s Dinotopia paintings, will open at Maison d’ Ailleurs in October.

Wall's End

Wall’s End
Built circa 1985, photographed 2004

Twenty years ago now, more, I rebuilt a stretch of stone wall that ends here. Sections of the wall had fallen, and those still standing had settled, slumped, wound this way and that, so I tried to blend in my new work in a way that went with the flow–And would hopefully, one day, become indistinguishable from the old. Hence, a new name, one that stuck: Weaving Wall.

The wall’s end widens to accommodate the two concrete silo staves that form the seat. I’d intended to build a six-pack cooler into the wall behind the seat, near the top, but access became a prohibitive issue; solutions that seemed aesthetically pleasing also seemed likely to create drainage problems that would compromise the mortared stonework there. So I filled in the space with rubble and mud, capped it permanently. A few empties did find their way into the wall elsewhere, though.

There’s no footing below the mortared area, but the mortared joints haven’t opened up much. I remember thinking that the wall’s new end would move around some, but maybe if I built it solidly enough it could ride the frost-and-thaw cycles as a unit. Probably a naïve approach at best, but twenty years on, the wall’s end and seat are both holding up well.

Vince Whitehead

Vince Whitehead, Ft. Jennings, Ohio Railroad Depot
Pen and Ink, 12" x 10"

It’s been awhile since I’ve worked much in pen and ink. But looking at Vince Whitehead’s Fort Jennings, Ohio Railroad Depot makes me want to get out my Sakura Pigma Microns, and have some fun.

Vince has posted several in-progress scans, details, and comments on this drawing on his site’s Work In Progress page. Looking at the reference photo reveals how Vince has utilized heightened contrast to sharpen and highlight elements like the depot’s windowframes, the decorative details at the gables, and even the roof’s shingles. Vince handles natural elements equally well; the trees, foliage, grasses in this drawing seem unstudied, effortless. Of course, they’re not; he just makes them look that way.

Limited-edition prints of this and many more of Vince’s drawings are available through his website.

The Lost Episodes, Scene 4

Another Lost Episode, from 2006.

The Lost Episodes, Scene 3

Hindsight, as they say, is always 20/20; looking through in-progress scans of old work, it's easy to see where I should have made better choices. The drawing this enlarged detail was saved from was ambitious and fun but unfocused, and would have benefitted from more ruthless editing- The rest of the elements didn't work nearly as well as this one, and I should have recognized that. But this passage, at this stage, I like.

Catherynne M. Valente's short story Palimpset, from Paper Cities, An Anthology of Urban Fantasy, Senses Five Press

In Silence, Scan 5

In the final scan, the cliff’s become more cliff-like, taken a step back into the shadows and assumed a supportive role, with a sloping lawn appearing at the top, between the building’s foundations. A rugged natural setting with another green tucked among the perhaps-ruins below, and immaculate, carefully tended buildings and grounds above- Those contrasts make for an interesting place, one I’ve enjoyed spending some time exploring.

Materials, tools: Strathmore Bristol Board; General charcoal pencils, Grades 6B and HB; Dixon Ticonderoga Graphite pencils, Numbers 1-4; kneaded erasers; Q-Tips.

To view the finished drawing, click here.

In Silence, Scan 4

I wanted the adjacent buildings to tie the tower into its setting, without compromising its impact or obscuring its brightly lit face, so I kept the new shapes and rooflines simple, clean, complementary. The small building breaks up the horizontals, and the light falling across it becomes another focal element. Trees and bushes function in the same way, and soften shapes, surfaces, edges. More sky smoothed, values adjusted throughout the drawing- Always an ongoing process. The cliff to right remains a work in progress.

Part 5

In Silence, Scan 3

Here, I’ve adjusted and cleaned up the tower’s lines, and developed its surfaces further. I like the new bridge, the flow of the bridge and walkway, and I still like the outcropping below. I’m reluctant to give up any of those elements, but though I’m usually partial to solitary, stand-alone structures, it seems clear that this tower should be the focal element of a community or campus.

Part 4

In Silence, Scan 2

In the second scan, the tower’s taking shape, and I’m working to bring the values of its roof and the sky behind into line.

Part 3

In Silence, Scan 1

In Silence is a charcoal and graphite drawing on heavyweight, acid-free Bristol Board. Tools include General charcoal pencils, Dixon Ticonderoga graphite pencils, kneaded erasers, and cotton buds. The drawing began with a light, nearly random blotting and rubbing of charcoal dust, applied with a cotton ball. I roughed in the tower’s shape by lifting out lights with a kneaded eraser shaped to a fine point, and developed detail with very sharp pencils, stippling from light to dark.

Exploration and discovery remain a priority of my process. In the first work-in-progress scan, above, I like elements of the outcropping to the right of the tower. But the crag the tower stands on doesn’t seem substantial enough, and the tower already seems to need adjacent structures.

Part 2

Small Steps

If someone unfamiliar with any of my work were to view an unidentified selection of my drawings from ten years ago, or five, when I was working primarily in ink and graphite, then view a selection of recent pieces, say from the last year or two- Would they sense or imagine or expect them all to be the work of the same artist? I wonder.

If not, well, that’s probably a good thing. Considerations of marketability aside, if my work isn’t continuing to evolve in a way that’s perceptible in the finished pieces, then I probably haven’t learned or grown much in their doing.

I wish sometimes that the differences between a new piece and the last were more obvious, more radical, that the growth represented were greater. For me, growth has never seemed about big leaps, but a series of small steps. Like most aspects of personal artmaking, it’s hard to be objective about that; maybe I’m just too impatient, and not giving myself enough credit.

Dissatisfaction, though, is a good thing. I’m always trying to narrow that gap between what I want to achieve, and what I can. And as long as I’m continuing to move forward, small steps are okay too.

Keith Jarrett, interviewed by Ted Rosenthal for Piano and Keyboard, 1996

In Silence

In Silence
Charcoal, Graphite; 5 1/2” x 16 1/4”

In Silence is the largest drawing I’ve done in several years. It’s been on the drawing table for a few weeks, and I’m happy with the result. More on this drawing shortly. Click on the image to view at actual size.

Recent reads, both short stories:

At Archipelago, Tracy Robinson’s Open Your Eyes, Red
At Barbara Campbell’s 1001 Nights, M. John Harrison’s Not A Hint Of Irony