Stormy Day Drawing

A stormy afternoon, and a new drawing. I use General's 6B Charcoal pencils a lot. Great darks, easy to soften, blend, revise. Using a grade this soft as I like to requires lots of sharpening.  Worthwhile, though.  There's a little graphite pencil in here, too.  A good start.

Beebe Lake

Beebe Lake, Cornell University, May 2013.

Stop Trying Again

At the close of this session, elements above and below the little wood seem better integrated, and I like the height and flow of the columns at left.  I eliminated a stand-alone column I couldn’t make work in the last session, and deepened the darks in that area to feature a new outcropping topped with an evergreen.

Whether I can make a given element work is another indicator whose worth I weigh.  I liked that stand-alone colum, but no shape I tried seemed satisfying.  Each successive stage of a drawing is another draft,  and I revise a lot.  But sometimes, when nothing I try makes an element work, I need to discard it.  Usually when I recognize that, reach for the Big Eraser, whatever I’ve given opportunity to happen instead comes much more easily, and complements its context better.

I haven’t kept track of time spent on this drawing, but the last two scans represent about twelve hours’ work.

Knowing When To Stop

A cold gray day, and a six-hour afternoon session. Separating larger masses- the stone columns, wooded slope- into individual outcroppings, ledges, trees. Looking to make each the best I can, while keeping its values and impact in line with the whole.  Leaning back, viewing the drawing at distance makes needed adjustments apparent: Too-darks that need lightening, and vice versa. As always, half the trick's knowing when to stop.

Small Choices

A late evening session, only a couple hours at the end of the day: You work when you can, and often those times are as productive as any. Tonight, no big decisions, but many small choices, developing detail along the benches and below, adjusting values. I'm happy with their cumulative effect, how the components I worked with tonight are evolving, beginning to separate, assert their own character, reveal what they'll contribute to the whole.   

Trusting Fun

Here’s a stitched jpeg- from four 8 ½” x 11” scans- of tonight’s session. No more waterlines for this drawing. I liked this place as an island or promontory, but not the resulting shape or composition- And just as importantly, neither of the waterlines I tried were fun.  Had I paid more attention to that the first time, I might have made better use of the time I spent trying the second. 

Fun is underrated.  The kinds of depth, detail, effects, surfaces etc I want to achieve are work.  I don’t mind; at its most patience-stretching it’s still work I love, and the result is usually satisfying, worth the time and effort invested.   But sometimes I forget the importance, at least in an element’s developmental stages, of simply enjoying, having fun drawing this.  Fun is an indicator  I need to trust more.  If I’m not having enough, maybe I should be trying something else.  Tonight’s session was big fun.  I’m excited about what this place has become, and looking forward to whatever happens next.

Cornell's Beebe Lake Overlook & Sackett Footbridge

The Beebe Lake Overlook and Sackett Footbridge comprise one of the most beautiful places on Cornell University's campus. I've taken many photographs here; this is 2013's first. Postcards, prints, and posters available at Redbubble.  More Postcards from Cornell.  

New Year's Day

Much respect to Otoliths editor Mark Young for continuing to demonstrate how to publish a great journal, and how much can be achieved on a free platform like Blogger. Thanks, Mark, for including my little piece 'New Year's Day' in the new issue- and for making it better, as well.

Our Failings Are Our Strengths

Looking at more compositional possibilities: Rotating the image a couple degrees clockwise to lessen the empty space at bottom left, and roughing in a new waterline.

I'd planned on refining the stand of trees, adding detail, shadows, etc. But this may be one of those times when the first take is as nearly as good as it's gonna get, or needs to. Doesn't happen often. As I've mentioned many times, I nearly always think I can make this or that element just that little bit better. And usually I can.  But sometimes I do the drawing much more harm than good. The trick, as always, is knowing when to leave well enough alone. Why's that so hard. But hey. Our failings are our strengths.

If I worked digitally I'd just add another layer, experiment in that, and so on.  At worst, no harm done.  Good thing I don't. Endless possibilities, no risk of pushing the paper too far- I'd probably never finish anything. 

Small Mysteries

Back at this one after several days away.  I try to work at least some whenever I can, but I also try to recognize those times when I lack the necessary energy and clarity to make good decisions.  When I'll likely only waste time, and I may fuck up a perfectly good drawing. 

The waterline I tried seemed forced, a pat response, unsatisfying resolution to the shapes above. Happily charcoal and graphite are forgiving. I like the way the stone forms emerge from this stand of trees.  How the trees soften, obscure, make me want to see further into those openings.

For me, these kinds of places are small mysteries.  I'm not looking for explanations, resolution: Mysteries resolved are no longer mysteries, and what fun is that.  I want the work to offer- to me, and to viewers- opportunity to wonder, imagine. As a friend said, "to find our own stories." So when I want to see more and can't, that's a good thing.

Increments of Regret

"In this dream one typically struggles to review the distance between intent and achievement."  Read my poem Increments of Regret at litbomb.

Giclee Prints: The Moon Dreams Of A Summer Night

Here's one of my favorite drawings from 2003, 'The Moon Dreams Of A Summer Night.' The foreground elements- bushes, path, and tree- are stippled with Sakura Pigma Micron pens, and softened and warmed a little with graphite pencil.  The sky, mist and moon are stippled with graphite pencils. Giclee prints of 'The Moon Dreams Of A Summer Night' are available at Bluecanvas.

Giclee Prints: Lost Harbor Light

I'm continuing to update my Bluecanvas store, making more images available as Giclee prints.  This ink and graphite drawing from several years ago is called 'Lost Harbor Light'.  The island, bridge, tree, and darkest areas of the lighthouse were stippled with Sakura Pigma Micron pens; the light's tower and lightchamber were stippled with Marvy LePlume pens and graphite pencils; the sea and sky are graphite pencil. Giclee prints of 'Lost Harbor Light' are under $17.

The Umbrella of the Future

Sarah finds the clicker, turns on the TV, sips her tea, waits.  Cold mornings lately, the little Sony seems sluggish, slow to wake.  Sarah hopes it’s not dying, hopes this is just a winter thing.  Imagines a small black animal, old, squarish, sedentary.  Dreaming colorful TV dreams, waking reluctantly, shivering a little.  Regaining its capacity for speech first: “Next- Is this the umbrella of the future?” someone at the Weather Channel says.  By the time the screen has brightened, picture wholly coalesced, they’ve gone to a commercial.  

(First published in Ink Sweat and Tears, 2007.)

Deliverance

My tiny story 'Deliverance' is included in the April issue of Fat City Review.

Artists Statement #2

Forgiveness

Giclee prints of my drawing 'Forgiveness' are available at Bluecanvas. Postcards and greeting cards are available at Redbubble. The original drawing is also available. If you're interested, email for price and particulars: markreep4@gmail.com.

Inching Toward Consistency

Session 6. I'm continuing to explore, choose shapes that seem to complement their immediate context as well as the whole. I like the overall, but I likely need to let my hands go, get a little looser at bottom left. The tones are inching toward consistency. The white line at bottom right (drawn with one of my favorite tools, a sharp Sanford Tuff Stuff Eraser Stick, and a straightedge) marks what will be a waterline. Here's a closer look at the beginnings of the reflections there.    

Always More After That

Session 5. Changes to the area at top left of this detail are subtle, but they solidify, add detail, smooth gradation. More could happen here.  More can always happen.  Always more after that.  But at this point, I don't think anything needs to.

I sketch in-drawing by pulling shapes from the charcoal and graphite midtones with a sharp kneaded or stick eraser.  Shapes are quick this way, and I don't get pencil marks/scorings that may be problematic later.  The roughed-in bits at bottom center aren't there yet.  Their shape and flow seem to work well with those at bottom right. But I expect they'll change.

Shadow's Fall

Session 4. More detailwork. Areas of greatest contrast become focal points. The composition will continue to evolve, but at this stage, my eye's drawn here:

The shadow's fall may change again. I like the underside of this element, the layered charcoal darks deepening this recess, but at this magnification it's apparent the top isn't quite there yet.  Maybe that's why the shadow's edge seems off.  Those edges are always a focal point as well, an opportunity to lead the eye.  I'll start here next time.