January 26, 2012

Home Stretch

Those of you most familiar with my art probably know that I tend to work at the intersection between a stark, two-dimensional, black-and-white world and one that is soft, shadowed, nuanced, dimensional, and occasionally, but not always, warmed by color. I suppose there are a bunch of possible symbolic meanings you could tease out of such a set up--and I won't deny that I have my own interpretations of this style--but by and large I return to it mainly because of the aesthetic. I simply love and adore black and white, clarity of line, and the textural and formal versatility that can be found within.

My favored materials are black sharpies of all sizes and bic round stick medium pens on smooth and completely un-textured white paper. As I work on a piece, I usually start with the heavy black-and-white stuff and then progress to the soft sections so I can avoid any collateral smearing that would undoubtedly occur during the hours I spend with my hands pressed up against the paper.

Last night, I finished the black stuff in my latest picture all the way up to one final corner...

You can't possibly realize how excited this makes me! When I began this drawing, I had ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA how complex and time consuming it would become...or just how much havoc it would wreak on my cramping right hand. Thank goodness playing the trumpet seems to use mostly different muscle movements, otherwise I'd be up a creek...so to speak.

Once I finish this final corner I'll abandon my sharpies and take up some combination of pencil (colored or not...I haven't quite decided that yet...and I'll have about an hour--two at the outside--of drawing left in which to make that decision) and possibly a bit more bic pen for intensity. I'm excited to move forward, but still praying that my occasional negligent clumsiness won't interfere with a work I'm really coming to love.


  1. Oh the anticipation!!! I'm just aching to see the finished work!!!!!

  2. You are so talented! One of my saddest days was when ny dragon jeans stopped fitting and had to go to the Box Where Clothes Die. I come across them sometimes ad lament my 2002 figure.