It’s been such a busy start to the school year that it’s hard to find time to sketch. One extra course has been added to my workload this term, and that means not only more teaching time but more preparation and extra grading time too. It leaves me frustrated because of course I like to do a daily sketch, but sometimes there are no more hours left in the day.
On Fridays I start a little later and this morning I was determined to find a bit of time to return to a house I spotted a few weeks ago on my way to school. It’s on a side street just a few blocks from the building where I work, and it looks nothing like the surrounding houses in the neighbourhood, which are mostly low-rise brick apartments buildings or two-storey duplexes. It’s situated next to a automobile repair shop, which…
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Eclipse with a Friend Today’s eclipse in San Diego was far from the path of totality. It got a little dim and we had fun with our box viewers and sunglasses, but the eclipse pretty much overlooked us. This sketch is more of what I wish we had experienced than what actually happened here. My goal was to convey some of the awe and wonderment that so many people shared over the eclipse today. The two figures are based on sketches I made last summer.
I wanted to make the sun far above the girls and so I used both sides of a Moleskine sketchbook. The sketch is made with gouache and measures 5 X 18 inches. The image below is a closeup of the two friends. Close-up of Eclipse with a Friend
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I’ve drawn a lot of classic cars and bikes, but I had never sketched my #vespa50s before! So, this morning, although there were hundreds of Vespa around me, in the « fallas 2017 meeting », I focused on mine. Besides, I was sure it wouldn’t leave before I finish the drawing!
« Onze heures sonnaient. La moitié des laveuses, assises d’une jambe au bord de leurs baquets, avec un litron de vin débouché à leurs pieds, mangeaient des saucisses dans des morceaux de pains fendus. Seules, les ménagères venues là pour laver leurs petits paquets de linge, se hâtaient, en regardant l’œil-de-bœuf accroché au dessus du bureau. Quelques coups de battoir partaient encore, espacés, au milieu des rires adoucis et des conversations qui s’empâtaient dans un bruit glouton de mâchoires. »
Extrait de L’Assommoir d’Emile Zola.