Category Archives: Drawing

Finished!

Well, almost. I still have to stretch and frame this piece, but for all intents and purposes it is complete.

With the holidays fast approaching, there hasn’t been much time for writing and I’m scrambling to fit in everything that needs to be done. A quick drawing session at the end of the day is the best remedy I know for slowing down and relaxing into the moment.

I’m sure your schedule runneth over as well. However, in an effort to bring some cheer, I’d like to share Alexander Unger’s claymation short that I found on Colossal. (Turn your volume up so you get the full effect). I hope that it will give you an enjoyable mini-break in the midst of all your festive preparations. If it makes you smile and forget your to-do list even briefly, I will have been successful.

Enjoy the special moments of the days ahead.

Grieving

As I reel over the election results, I am seeking solace, stability and calm in simple shapes and shadows.

At times, the less said, the better…in art and in politics.

Head of ‘Plate’

Without a doubt, the most cherished crop in my relatively small vegetable garden is the garlic. It helps to keep the critters away and shades my salad greens so that they last through the hot days of July. I believe it’s the one ingredient in my kitchen that I would be very hard-pressed to do without, as my family would readily attest.

Last week I harvested this year’s crop. The satisfying act of pulling out the bulbs, lining them up on the back porch and then hanging them in the attic of our garage to dry, instills me with the same sense of security as when the studded snow tires go on the car — I’m good-to-go for when winter decides to do her thing.

I brought several heads into my studio for drawing, and the distinct aroma of the fresh bulbs is making me dream of what we call ‘Bitter Broccoli Spaghetti’…a recipe that has become the epitome of comfort food for our family. It’s quick, simple, and oh so delicious; a riff on Aglio e Olio with the addition of broccoli, anchovies & olives. And one of best parts of any pasta meal is there is time to sketch the ingredients while you wait for the water to come to a boil.

Bitter Broccoli Spaghetti*
Extra Virgin Olive Oil
Crushed Red Pepper
Canned Flat Fillet Anchovies
Garlic, and plenty of it, minced
Broccoli, chopped
Black olives, chopped
Your choice of Pasta
Parmesan

Warm the olive oil with red pepper flakes and anchovies in a large pan until the anchovies dissolve. Add the chopped broccoli and garlic and sauté a few minutes so that the flavors combine but the garlic doesn’t burn or become bitter. Add a touch of pasta water, cover and let steam until the broccoli is tender crisp. Remove from heat; stir in the olives and cooked pasta. Add extra olive oil or reserved pasta water as necessary. Serve with plenty of parmesan.

* I learned to make this recipe in the microwave, which almost melts the broccoli into wonderful deliciousness, but the more traditional way to make this would be on the stove. I haven’t listed amounts because I don’t use them. This is one of those recipes where measurements expand and contract according to your personal taste and appetite.

Garlic-Line-up

❖

And for textile news…now on view:

Undeniable: Practice = Progress

One of the many enjoyable aspects of traveling is that opportunities to pull out a sketchbook are plentiful, and doing so seems to be the best way to cement detailed memories.

I love that there are multiple chances each day to both make leisurely drawings, for example while lingering in a restaurant, or to squeeze in a quick sketch during a random 3-5 minute gap in whatever else we’re doing. I try to do likewise in my regular day-to-day, but it’s much easier on vacation when there seems to be more time and less to juggle.

It’s one thing to draw an inanimate place-setting or the surrounding scene of tables and chairs, but images of people make a drawing come alive. And the more I sketch in public, the more I am finding my challenged ability to capture people quickly and accurately really needs to be addressed. The best and possibly only solution is practice.

All Star Band © 2016 Elizabeth Fram Musicians make for great models. Even though they aren’t static, their movements are repetitive allowing extra time to catch a shape or gesture. Drawing at this jazz club had a couple of advantages: we were close to the band and it was light enough that I didn’t have to strain to see the page, benefits one doesn’t usually have at a concert.

I rarely have time when I’m out and about during the middle of the day to just hang out and draw people. And since it would be ideal to have a steady stream of models whenever practicing, for now I’ve decided it’s okay to rely on my iPad and a timer in order to build up some practical capital in facility and speed. It works in a pinch, but I do keep in mind that there is no substitute for working “live”.

I bought a cheap 100-page sketchbook in Toronto for just this purpose, and I’ve set a goal of filling it up by making 8-10 quick drawings at a sitting, giving myself about 3 minutes for each. I have a long way to go, but practice definitely makes a difference. I am at least beginning to feel more comfortable placing features so that the figures aren’t just faceless beings.

Also, I am using a mechanical pencil rather than a pen — not so that I can erase, but so that I can vary the line with pressure while keeping it, for the most part, in contact with the page in an effort to work on speed.

Several of my trusty books have been helpful resources:

Fast Sketching Techniques: Capture the Fundamental Essence of Elusive Subjects by David Rankin
The Urban Sketcher: Techniques for Seeing and Drawing on Location by Marc Taro Holmes
Drawing 365: Tips & Techniques to Build your Confidence and Skills by Katherine Tyrrell

My request to you: please share any bits of advice you may have picked up along the way on this subject. I know for a fact that several of you are accomplished at drawing the figure and I would love to hear any pearls of wisdom you may have beyond the gold standard of “practice, practice, practice”.

Old Chore, New Challenge

It’s always a gift when you find a way to see something with new eyes.

Dirty Dishes
“My life will always have dirty dishes.
If this sink can become
a place of contemplation
let me learn constancy here…”
— Gunilla Norris, Being Home

The above is an excerpt from a meditation by Gunilla Norris in her 1991 book Being Home. I bought the book years ago in my search for a way to be at peace with the myriad of endlessly repetitive and menial tasks that are a fact of life when tending a home with young children. I loved the children part, but not so much the housework.

It’s a soothing little book with lovely black and white photographs by Greta D. Sibley. In fact, I think those photos did more to help me reframe my perspective on daily chores than the meditations. Well, in all honesty I’m not sure I’ve ever been able to achieve a better attitude about housework, but Sibley’s images absolutely contributed to the way I observe the details of the ordinary.

There is a wonderful irony in the fact that the piles of dishes that had no redeeming qualities 25 years ago have indeed evolved into a source of contemplation. They now assume another mantle, that of a place of study — of shape, value, pattern and composition — a place “to be“, as Norris says in her introduction, “in the extraordinary beauty of dailiness”.

And she was right, my life will always have dirty dishes. But at least now I can also see them as the basis of a new still life that awaits me every day.

Recipes for Learning

A by-product of getting ready to cozy-up for the cooler months is my anticipation of getting back to work in the kitchen. Aside from perhaps pie, summer just doesn’t seem to be a time to be excited about cooking. But as we slide into autumn, I look forward pulling down my purple Dutch oven. It’s a pleasure to make use of the garden’s harvest (both my own and that of local farmers) in soups and stews that will hopefully stretch across several meals, allowing me to work later in the studio another day or at least providing an easy future lunch. A friend recently gave us one of his home-raised chickens. It’s waiting in the freezer and is going to become something wonderful.

The one treat I purchased and brought home from Montreal earlier in the month was My Paris Kitchen, Stories and Recipes by David Lebovitz. If you also enjoy reading cookbooks and trying recipes that highlight seasonal ingredients that are long on flavor, then this a book for you. Lebovitz is an engaging writer, the photographs are lovely, and it certainly doesn’t hurt that his stories are akin to a mini visit to Paris.

I have been bringing my drawing tools into the kitchen recently, using the utensils and ingredients of whatever I am preparing for self-directed lessons of organizing a picture plane. Richard Diebenkorn’s sketchbooks, mentioned in this post, have been an inspiration in pushing my thoughts about composition.

If the idea of curling up with a cookbook isn’t exactly your style, try this: Parka Blogs reviews art books, all manner of creative materials / supplies, digital gadgets and also features interviews with a variety of artists…the perfect ingredients and a different kind of recipe for broadening your artistic curiosity.

Back to the Drawing Board

Not much for you to read this busy week — instead I’m relying mostly on images to share my thoughts and progression.

I’ve continued to explore along the theme of positive and negative, but have stepped briefly away from painting on silk, reverting instead to pencil on Dura-Lar.

I felt like I needed to move back a bit, trusting that it would ultimately help to push me forward.

In doing so, the complexity of color is removed in favor of value alone.

I like the way the translucency of the Dura-Lar facilitates the idea of positive vs negative in terms of depth, but by using layers that are so obviously flat.

It’s another way to elicit the visual shift between image and surface that I find so fascinating.

Relaxed Presence

This week I came across a very enlightening short interview between James Fallows of The Atlantic and longtime tech executive, Linda Stone. I think you might enjoy it: “The Art of Staying Focused in a Distracting World”.

It resonated with me as I am forever trying to navigate my way through constant distractions. I fully own that I rely increasingly on technology to achieve my goals, but I’m not necessarily happy about it. Reading this piece drilled home yet another reason that I am so grateful to be able to spend a portion of each day thinking about and making art.

Even though Stone doesn’t specifically refer to art-making in her theory, I think the process of creation falls within the same framework as the other skills she does mention. It too allows and encourages one to be fully engaged, while at the same time promoting a deep sense of relaxation.

I made a promise to myself last January that I would try to draw every day. As the weeks have turned into months, I’ve come to realize that this daily practice, usually anywhere from 10 to 45 minutes, not only gives me a chance to work on and improve my capabilities, but quite unexpectedly has turned out to be what one might term something akin to a form of yoga.

By approaching this exercise as a “practice”, there is no pressure to come out with a polished finished product. The reward is in merely showing up. While paying close attention to the physical details of whatever I’m drawing (in yoga terms, being “mindful”), an interesting by-product is that the process is incredibly restful and restorative. I’m reaping benefits on a number of levels. For instance, I am making new discoveries in the reciprocity of mark-making between my drawings and my textile work. I am seeing improvement and gaining confidence in my draughtsmanship; unsuccessful attempts don’t discourage me because I know I’ll be back at it the next day. I get a true sense of accomplishment in knowing that I am following through on my New Year’s promise. And finally, my time spent drawing is an oasis that has no bearing on how the rest of my day turned out — in the studio or otherwise… it just is.

That’s a pretty satisfactory return on a very modest investment. I encourage you to try it.