It's More Like a Drawing a Week

Instead of putting up each and every little scribble, I decided to hold off and post only once a week for this drawing. I worked on it every day at lunch last week, except for Friday, when I went for a walk instead.

It was a beautiful day, and I walked over to a pond where Canada Geese were hanging out. I've been able to get close to some flocks, but not this one. They weren't interested at all in the peanut butter crackers I had bought from the downstairs vending machine just for them. They must have heard about the salmonella scare...

I walked over to another half-frozen pond and saw a coyote carcass sticking up out of the ice. It had been eaten on, and its ribs were visible. It's a wild life out here.

Drawing Number Four

I have added just a wee bit more. I only worked on this for 30 minutes yesterday. The day was so beautiful here, I decided to take a walk. Today we have similar weather; almost 70 degrees, warm sun, blue skies. Time for another short walk, then back to drawing! My brother said he saw a 'baby chicken' to the left of the large flower in the bottom center; my mother-in-law sees a yellow flower in the top right; my sister sees roses climbing up a brick wall. Keep those visions coming....

Drawing Number Three

I've added a wee bit to this. The changes are subtle - will work some more on this at lunch today.

Drawing Number Two

I'm going to try an experiment.

A few blog posts ago, I introduced the first drawing of a new series of Colorado wildflowers. It was this one:

Wildflowers, 2008
Mixed media on Arches

I thought I would show you the process with the second one in the series. I started the drawing above on an 8 1/2 x 11 inch portion of an old monoprint that I had made as a grad student back in 2001. One rule of the grad studio is to save all your work, especially the unsuccessful stuff, which is what that print was. I think it was made from ink still on the plate after one run through the press - an afterimage. Second rule of the studio is to use up all leftover ink - it's costly. The afterimage was not saturated enough to work by itself, but I saved it for a rainy day.

That would be today. It's sunny and warm outside, but no matter.

The second drawing will begin on another portion of that same monoprint, namely this:



As you can see, the print already has a fairly floral nature. What I will do next is to "find" the flowers in the print. I may give it a landscape orientation in order to do that. Something like this:



Click on either of the images to bring up a larger view. Do you see any flowers in the print? Where? Let me know, and I'll see if I agree with you. In any case, the next time you see this, it will have some new marks on it. Maybe some of them will be yours!

Ta 'till then!

On My Way, or Thinking Outside the Box

A formation of Canada geese flies by my office window. On Wednesday, December 17 at 3:23 p.m. I decide to step outside. I put aside my work, put on my coat, pull on my gloves, and walk past the cubicles and rows of file cabinets that flank the path to the front door. I open it.

It is cold, but it is a good cold. It is a fine day for a walk.

I walk across the lot, turn the corner, and head up the street. At the end of the street, the path diverges. I can go left, or I can go right. To my left is the east, where the prairie rolls out. Over the prairie the sky is still blue, the clouds are high, and the way is clear. To my right is the west. The mountains block my view. The clouds are dark and hang low. This way could be tricky; filled with many challenges. I take the right way.

The path is icy in spots, made so by the recent snowfall that melted, then refroze overnight. But it does not slow my stride. Nor does it seem to hinder the others on this path, most of them runners. They race by me, focused on nothing but the rush.

But I keep a steady pace. I notice the things that they cannot. I watch the geese slide to a landing on the frozen pond. I see the twisted formation on the side of the giant cottonwood tree that looks like a ghoulish face. I hear the magpies whistling their warnings. I see the waning gibbous moon above me.

On my way, I sense a sudden stillness. I pause, and slowly turn my head to the source. A fox. I wait. The fox resumes her hunt, digging through the snow for a morsel. Finding something, she quickly chews it down. When she is done, she raises her head to look at me. Her eyes are steady. They hold mine. They seem to say “Well, what are you waiting for?” “Nothing,” I think.

The fox crosses my path and begins her hunt anew on the other side. I walk on. Satisfied with my answer to myself, I continue my journey.

Where am I headed? Anywhere I want. I may even make it up as I go along. I’ll need some tools, but a sharp pencil and a blank sheet of paper will suffice for this trip.

Up ahead there is a bridge on the path. I cross it. The world opens up. I am on my way.