An Old Friend

"An Old Friend"
Sharpie pen
5.5x8.5

I came across this picture whilst browsing Pinterest, and I found myself deeply stirred.  The photo of the old dog reminded me of Star, my childhood black Labrador retriever.  I still miss her very much.  It's been said that everyone (who likes dogs, anyway) has a life dog- one special dog that none of the others in their life can compare to.  Sort of like a doggy soulmate, as it were.  I believe Star was my life dog, and sometimes the grief at her passing is as fresh as the day it happened.

It's rare that a photo or other types of artwork elicits such a response in me.  I decided to do a sketch and see what happened.  It has been awhile since I last drew from a reference photo; a lot of my recent scribbling has simply been from my thoughts.  I really enjoy using the Sharpie pen.  It's easy to elicit a sense of detail and illustration without laboring over depths of graphite.  I'm also fond of crisp, bold lines.  Growing up with Disney and lots of cartoon and anime artwork will do that.  My proportions are a bit off, and I didn't frame the dog to scale, but I'm still pleased that I had the discipline to draw it anyway. I could be good at this if I put the time into it!

Artwork, is, well, work.

"Untitled Spirit"
5.5x8.5
Sharpie pen

I like to think that I am more self-disciplined than the average person.  However, I still find that I could improve in this area.  For instance, I have not kept my promise of drawing something at least once every weekday.  This is clearly detrimental to my goals of becoming a professional artist, yet I have chosen not to take this helpful step.  Why?  

Part of it is fear, fear that I'm not good enough, that I'll never be good enough, and I will always work for the man.  (By not practicing my art, I very nearly ensure that this will be the case).  The latter isn't particularly bothersome, but I feel I cannot live up to my artistic potential, my creative potential, by doing so.  I have always been bound by my desire for security, and the idea of lacking a steady paycheck with benefits wrapped into it is troubling.  Still, I dream of spending my days creating and marketing my art.  It would be amazing to work with my hands and mind in synchronization.

Discipline is doing something towards a goal, anyway, no matter what.  It's recognizing the consequences of action and inaction, and working towards improvement when it would be easier not to.  The idea of art is wonderful.  For me, the creative process is exhausting.  I made two sketches yesterday, one of which is posted here.  I got to the point where, instead of refining the second drawing, I got tired.  I felt my muse run dry, the flow ebbing away to dry sand and sawdust in my mind.  This is where discipline must step in and push creativity onward, and this is where I failed.  I was done, and simply didn't want to go on any further.  I have plenty of self-discipline when it comes to cooking, cleaning, housework, staying fit, and getting myself to my day job.  When it comes to my art, it is a notable area where improvement is possible.  I've already identified that some of the housework could and should be allowed to slide to make more room for creative time.  Now it is a matter of action. 

"Cory Catfish"- pen and pencil sketch

"Cory Catfish"
pen and pencil
small leather sketchbook

Now for something different- a cory catfish.  These are great aquarium fish that do best in groups no smaller than six; we have eight in our own tank, which is just starting out.  They are very active and enjoy schooling together.  This sketch is in honor of these cheery little guys.

Chincoteague Pony- Pop Art style

"Pop Art Pony"
gel pen
small leather sketchbook

I originally went into this drawing with the idea that I'd create another one of my "swirly horses" as one of my friends has dubbed them.  However, my rendering of this horse's anatomy went awry in the area of its loins and hindquarters.  As I was drawing in pen (oh, how I love to live life dangerously!), the mishap was glaringly evident.  How was I going to solve this?  Enter clever cross-hatching.  The result is certainly not photorealistic, but visually appealing.  In fact, I can even say it's inspired by Roy Lichenstein and the pop art movement itself.  This is not entirely a conscious inspiration, but a few years of art school might have had some influence on my subconscious.

Because I grew up loving horses, they are a clear influence on who I am today.  Horses are a frequent theme in my work.  When I was 9 or 10, I was given Marguerite Henry's Misty of Chincoteague to read.  I became obsessed with the series and fell in love with Henry as an author.  Many of her titles still sit on my bookshelf.  As I've discussed in an earlier post, illustrator Wesley Dennis was also an important influence on my art and my passion for drawing.  While I appreciate the style and challenge to conventional art that pop art presents, I still love a painting or drawing that tells a story.  I only hope to capture the liveliness of spirit that Dennis' work does.

Sometimes I draw stuff other than horses. But mostly I draw horses.

I am in the process of working on an exhaustingly detailed (for me, anyway) graphite drawing of a Suffolk Punch team.  Draft horses have been very appealing to draw for me lately.  Their thicker, more muscular conformation allows me to diversify my equine portfolio, and I also don't want civilization to forget about these strong animals, without whom so much agricultural work was nigh impossible.  Also, war horses.  Do you really think anything but a big draft type could handle The Mountain That Rides?

"Suffolk Punch Team"- work in progress
graphite
11x13

 I really, really want this to be a great piece.  The reference photo is just gorgeous, and I want to do it justice.  However, I need to keep reminding myself that it doesn't have to be good at all, that I just have to try and all will be well.  Like so many others out there, I struggle with being far too harsh on myself, and I want art to keep being fun for me, after so long of it feeling like a chore.  For now, this is just a graphite piece, but I may add pen for some boldness.  It's about four hours in, and many more to go.  Just figuring out the contour lines was an excruciating two hours.   I unfortunately forgot my pencil on Thursday, so I did a sketch of my beagle, Brucie, instead.  This one took about two hours.  What is this?  She does stuff other than horses? I can hear you asking.  Why yes, yes I do.  But horses are my favorite.

"Brucie"
pen sketch
small leather sketchbook