11-30-04
My drawing class went really well today. I'd spent the last part of the Thanksgiving break working on lesson plans for other classes and freelance projects. By nine thirty last night I'd finally freed up a little time think about a lesson plan for drawing and couldn't think of anything we hadn't done. I was talking to Clint about it and casually mentioned that we'd already done figure drawing, but maybe we should simply spend another day on it.
   Clint's response was, "Figure drawing is really hard. I hated that." A light bulb went off in my head and I remembered that I had done several days of figure drawing in previous quarters. It's the hardest kind of drawing, which is precisely why it deserved another day. Another plus is that there is no lesson plan. I talk briefly about the common pitfalls before we all form up in squares and begin drawing each other.
    After break I posed for twenty minutes, and then asked for volunteers, of which there were many. One student complained that he hated doing figures because he didn't know how, and he hated the feeling he got when his drawing sucked. (he draws most things quite effortlessly).
    It was quite a good point and I told the entire class that this style of figure drawing (semi blind contour) requires you to start poorly. You have to draw 50% of the time without looking at the paper, so of course you start out badly. In fact, there is almost no way to start out drawing well. It's totally unnatural to draw without looking at your line. However, if you believe your line is good, and ignore the evidence that it sucks, after a few minutes your line control will dial in as your right brain kicks in. You do have to live with the rough spots where you started, but I always remind them to allow for some errors. It's ok to make mistakes, required even.
   It's a bizarre conundrum, but I've seen this technique break through to the most hardened non-artists. Three students had major breakthroughs today, doing their best drawings ever, and on full figures! I'd walk along and glance at their work and stop dead, stunned. "Wow," I'd say, "Have you always been able to draw that good?!!! That's amazing. I think that's the best thing I've seen you do in this class yet."
   They'd look at me kind of in a daze as if they couldn't believe it either and say, "no, I didn't know how to draw like this before". I'd make some flippant remark about how either they'd been an artist all along or I deserved a raise, but in my heart I'm thinking, jeez, I really got through to these people...how cool is that?

11-28-04
The Thanksgiving Holidays are over and I had a few minutes to sit down and write. We did the usual drive down to my folks house in Olympia to see my brother and sister and their kids. We were surprised and pleased to also see my Aunt and Uncle (Ed and Mary) from Peshastin.
       Ed and his wife Mary Ellen are my favorite relatives. I've known them my entire life and they haven't changed one iota. They celebrated their 50th a couple years ago, but what makes them really special is the comedy act they've developed over the years. Ed has quite a gift for a quick comeback, which, when combined with his razor sharp mind and an uncanny sense of timing shared with his wife; quite simply they are the funniest people I know. He's got this great big grin, and an awe shucks kind of personality, truly a cowboy from way back. He was one of the few people who didn't give up on me when I was going through my "teenage" years.
    I had reached a point back then when I didn't even want to see my family at all, especially at the holidays. But If I heard that Ed was coming over, I'd make a special effort to show up just for the yearly ping pong tournament. He and I were the ping pong masters of the family and the Thanksgiving battle down in dad's basement would draw the entire clan downstairs for the drama.
    I played my buddies for fun, and I think Ed played in the lunch room at the university research station where he worked in animal science. Regardless, when we met at Thanksgiving, it was drop dead serious ping pong. I don't mean we didn't laugh our way through the games, but we didn't hold back anything either. There is an old saying: "Old age and cunning will always triumph over youth and agility." That was true for most of my middle school years, but as I got into high school my deviousness began to match his and the rallies became long, fast and furious, neither one backing down an inch.
    I've been updating my "site index" page. I've added in links to the best writing of this year up through about June and plan to do the rest...tomorrow?

11-18-04
Eleven days is the longest I've gone without writing in this journal since I started it 5 years ago. My excuses were...do I need excuses?

• Three paying clients demanding my freelance attention simultaneously
• hiring a subcontractor to write php scripts - thanks Bruce!
• 80 students who need lesson plans written and graded
• Arranging to have both cars worked on (inspection/oil change and a new clutch)
• Bills, bills and more bills
• the honeydo list
• living on 4 hours of sleep due to a cold
• My yearly physical - Just because I'm 50 you want me to get a what?!! They stick it up where??!!!!
• fending off my daughters boyfriend. Where'd I put that shotgun?
• Seeing an audiologist about a hearing aid
• Some other stuff I've forgot.

My General Practitioner told me not to worry about my 5 second attention span at home. I told him I was fine at work, but at home I have the attention span of a 3 week old puppy. He says Alzheimer's is when you don't remember stuff you really ought to remember, not simply spacey-ness.
   Here is his example of a situation where you might want to worry you have something more serious than just being overworked: You have the Jones over for dinner on Sunday. On Wednesday, you say to the wife, "Say, we haven't seen the Jones in a long time, we should invite them over for dinner." That's worrisome, but walking out to the garage and forgetting why you walked out there is merely a symptom of being over busy.
   This week I taught my drawing students how to draw drapery. I thumbtacked large handkerchiefs in the backs of large boxes, then shined a light through a hole in the side. It created a little stage where I had perfect lighting control and the students loved it. At least 3 students had major breakthroughs and suddenly found themselves drawing. I love that class!
   It's very challenging getting them there, but when the students finally break through to the artist within, the smiles on their faces are worth more than money can buy.

11-7-04
Took my six paintings down to State of the Arts Gallery in Olympia yesterday. Deb has quite a good thing going down there in her busy gallery on a prime downtown corner next to the Washington Center for the Performing Arts. Because Olympia is not only a busy college town, but the capital of the state, her customers cover the whole gamut of imaginable art collectors from scruffy students to retired bureaucrats.
       I suspect many readers of this page have never dealt with a gallery from the supply side; here is how it works:

1. I make the initial contact and schedule a time when I can show her my available unframed work.
2. She looks over the work and picks the pieces she thinks she can sell.
3. I drive home and frame the paintings, usually reusing existing frames and matts from old paintings that are already veterans of her gallery and other shows.
4. I drive back down on the appointed day and deliver the framed paintings. She enters them in her book, giving each one a name and a price.
5. I drive home and wait several months hoping I'll receive a check in the mail indicating a sold painting.
6. I drive down and pick up the unsold paintings.

When it comes to price, I usually leave it up to Deb as she knows exactly what the market will bear. One of the paintings was quite hard to name and we spent 10 minutes tossing names around like: "rolling waves", "looking for whales", "surfers paradise" etc.
     Deb was dissolving in giggles by the time we settled on something, can't remember what. If it were up to me, I'd simply name them after the place where they were painted. But Deb prefers to name them something non-specific. Her logic goes like this: "If we name it Trinidad, California and they've never been to Trinidad, they are less likely to buy it than if we'd named it 'looking for whales'. More people have looked for whales than have been to Trinidad."
     We drew portraits in art class this week. Several of my students in each class are quite talented at capturing a likeness. We formed groups of 4 students per square, each student simultaneously posing as a model and drawing another student in the square. As one might expect, there is always a "mover" in one of the groups, but I get around that problem by having the squares switch directions after 20 minutes for a different model.
      One never knows who will be the mover, but more often than not it's one of the talented artists: someone who is so totally into the act of drawing that they are constantly moving: tilting their head, straightening up for a more distant view, putting a pencil in their mouth, vigorously erasing, scratching an ear...you get the idea.
     Still, most of them take this lesson to heart and I love the moment when I tell them the "time is up". I try to melt into the background and observe their reactions as they each hold their drawing up to their model, an act which, depending on the drawing, frequently triggers gales of laughter or ooh's and ahh's of appreciation.

11-1-04
That was a busy weekend. This is 8:30 Monday morning and I'm putting off writing another chapter in my textbook in order to type a few words here. Eric Clapton's Unplugged album is playing through the speakers on my laptop as my mind slowly spins up to speed, aided by a cup of instant coffee.
      Saturday I put the finishing touches on the five paintings, took the final photographs and cut one matt. Sunday I spent an hour balancing my checkbook on the computer, then cut a couple more matts and began framing, finishing at 1 AM.
    Cutting matts is not so much a tricky business as it is a series of simple steps carried out in a precise order. I have a dusty old double matt covered with tiny scribbles, numbered and highlighted. It's supposed to guide me through the process if I've not done it in a while.
   The main trouble spots are related to dull blades on the matt cutter. I've found I get about 4 matts to a blade, depending on the size of the paintings. Occasionally I blow a matt, but I've learned it's just the price of doing business. This time around it went smoothly and most of my troubles were related to my aging frames.
    Whenever I have a show of new paintings, I look around the walls of my house (and dad's house) to see if any of my existing frames will fit the new work. If I see a frame that will fit, it's out with the old, in with the new. I keep the old paintings in a box under the bed. This box gets heavier each year and currently weighs about 30 pounds. These are my failures, or, as forward thinking artists call them: learning experiences.
    These old frames date back about 9 years and they are looking their age. Like a desperate father looking for a husband, (any husband!) for his aging homely daughter, I try to spruce them up each time I re-glaze with new work. Trouble is, they are wood painted with glossy white paint. Because wood gets bruised, and paint chips, there is only so much one can do. I have to have them down to the gallery by this Saturday, and buying new frames is not an option in my budget.
    I'm hoping this is a common problem with chronically hard up artists. I'll take them down to the gallery and see what Deb thinks. Many art collectors routinely reframe their purchases, preferring much nicer frames than artists can afford. We buy for utility and simple presentation, rather than elegance. Perhaps they'll pass inspection. Well, it's 9 AM, I've had my little break, guess I'd better get to work.
    

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