(A day’s worth of sketchbook drawings. The first page is about an hour’s of ambidexterity exercises.)
A couple months back I did a couple of drawings of Playstation controllers. It was the first time I had drawn from life in probably six years and I was absolutely horrified at how six years of inactivity could destroy any semblance of skill I may have once had, and at this point I realized that I really need to just settle down and re-introduce myself to to the basics.
I planned this controller exercise to last about about a month, and it’s been about two-and-a-half now. I feel like I’ve made some progress getting back into some sort of working condition, though I honestly think that I could probably stand to continue on with this for another three months and it would do me much good. The law of diminishing returns, however, makes me think that it might be better for me to get started, in earnest, in making actual pieces rather than spending another few months doing endless studies. This means that as of today (and about 2000 drawings of this controller) this exercise is over.
Just checking in with a couple more sketchbook pages of (surprise!) more playstation controller drawings.
I’m still having a bit of trouble properly sighting the curves of ellipses.
Moving sustained drawings to be a larger part of my routine.
Still drawing controllers; slowly working my way towards more sustained drawings, but I’d like to firm everything else up a bit more.
Still continuing with drawing the same old, same old. This week, though, I’ve decided that I’ve come to depend strictly on set manners that I always draw with. Both my right eye and hand are extremely dominant, and drawing, maybe, has become too mechanical for my own good. In a minor experiment I’ve taken to drawing with an eyepatch over my right eye and drawing with my left hand for a portion of the day—it’s sort of like being a pirate except really lame.
If you don’t back up your dreams with truth, you have a very round-shouldered art.
(I’m hesitant to be throwing quotes around like an irritated monkey and his poop, but since I don’t quote people that often, I hope this doesn’t seem too cheesy.)
About a month ago I began trying to get my drawing skills back into shape in earnest. It’s really been about seven years since I’ve been able to focus on making artwork at all, and it’s been frustrating trying to get back into proverbial shape. It’s primarily been the passage of time from when I was young and full of youthful ambition to the cranky, old man that I am currently. I feel like it’s been seven years of wasted opportunity.
Nothing special and by no means “good”, but back to working from life. Drawing elipses right now is killing me.
This is definitely the last day I spend drawing from magazines. My sketchbook is taking on the distinct feeling of a high school art exhibition.