Evolution of Sorceress

My last drawing assignment was to create a new piece that spoke to the figure, based on or inspired by one of the sketches/pieces I created during our figure drawing sessions. Here is the evolution of the finale!

The inspired piece

The inspired sketch(s)

Sketch of Sorceress

Sketch of Sorceress

Colored Rough Draft

Colored Rough Draft

Copy RD onto Big Paper

Copy RD onto Big Paper

Pencil Outline of Finale

Pencil Outline of Finale

Halfway Colored/Detailed

Halfway Colored/Detailed

Finished

Finished

Pose changed. Her first pose was too straight up and down and I wanted to balance it out (as per suggestion of Prof.). Think this pose is awesomer, if less sexy.

Changed rocky thing she was standing on to a lightening blast. Wanted to add more movement, and earth does not move. Want it to look fluid and powerful at the same time. Lightening from playing too much Diablo as a Wizard, probably. Fire probably would have looked cool too. Lightening matches color scheme, however.

Still not finished (in my mind). Blue of lightening needs to be prettier, and needs more than just blue…like green and red…but want to stay within color scheme and not make background too heavy. Green might clash. Red would look good (I think) with pink.

This finished piece is what I hung up on wall in class for critique. Most finished pieces were crazy abstract, but few of us did illustration-esque style. Prof. asked me “are you inspired by comic books?” I said “Yes,” because more or less truth, but didn’t want to go all deep and profound about it like everyone else was trying to do…I want to be comic book artist, so naturally my style is going to be comic book…Prof. made it sound like was trying to mimic the style or something. Did not like that.

I actually got idea for a series of similar projects. Might do if not too lazy. Or if not burdened by creative writing poop.

Lifey Tidbits #3

Previous bunch of tidbits here.

I changed the name of these posts because “Life Observations” is BORING and also, not all my observations were observations…more like…shenanigans…

2/3/15
Got kicked off the train at Gateway due to accident at 82nd “involving train and person”, according to Trimet.org. I contemplated on that, but had 30mins until class and needed to be downtown STAT! No time to contemplate the profoundness of life and death! Checked out the buses at Gateway, peering meekly at their destinations, but couldn’t tell which ones went through downtown. Then I saw a bus with “via City Center” on its face. Bus 19, have never taken it before. Dubious on what the “via” meant, but I assumed the obvious. Asked bus driver, just in case, “This goes through downtown, right?” He said “Yup yup,” while motioning me and others to hurry up and get on bus, not even checking our fare. I thought he might have just been saying “yup” to whatever I said to get me to move along, so I was still suspicious of the bus destination. I took a seat and kept vigilant for any bad turns by bus, hoping it didn’t squiggle its way downtown. Finally I saw the familiar tall buildings of downtown in the distance. Whew! Faith in humanity in good standing!…kinda. Was 5 minutes late for class. Couldn’t go pee beforehand so did potty dance in seat for 20 minutes while Prof. talked.

2/5/15
Pouring rain. Met with drawing classmates and Prof. in Art Building for “field trip” to art galleries. Is a field trip in college a field trip? Why is it called a “field” trip anyway? Are we going “out on the field” doing research? After standing awkwardly with classmates whom seemed overly attached to each other and not, for some reason, at all with me, the Prof. showed up.
Prof., “Why didn’t you guys bring your umbrellas?!”
Dude, “We’re Portlanders!”
Laughter.
Portland humor.
Older lady, fellow classmate, laughs and brandishes her umbrella like a sword, almost hitting me in the face.
Other Girl looks down at her umbrella sheepishly, ashamed at herself for being a bad Portlander.
I look down at the half-slippers I put on, too lazy to tie shoes this morning. They slip on like a slipper, but have the soles of a regular shoe…for taking out the garbage and checking your mail. I must be a true Portlander now, wearing slippers in the rain, and for that matter, even out of the house. I don’t even own an umbrella.
When we leave the building together, Other Girl with umbrella does the thrust-up-in-the-air method of opening an umbrella, and almost hits me in face.
Geez people.
Tempted to wear sign on my forehead saying “I EXIST.”

2/8/15
Upon passing by the common area of 9th floor Broadway, I see that a girl has made the area into her own personal painting studio. She has a tarp laid out on floor and newspaper on the table. Underneath the newspaper are her bottles of paint, splayed out paintbrushes, and Tupperware of water. The chairs are against the wall except for the cushioned ones that are bolted down. She has a tall easel set up on the tarp and stands before it, brushing blue paint on an already green and brown canvas that is as tall as a child. She is also singing to herself, in that soft high pitched voice way, like the girls in high school choir outside of class, that weird uniform way that is…not pleasing to the ears. As I walk by she hesitates in her singing and glances at me, but immediately starts up again and goes on painting. Perhaps she’d been hoping I was a cute boy who would be impressed by her free spirited artistness doing it all out-in-public-like.

2/8/15
Went into bathroom to prepare for a shower. Noticed a kitten sleeping on top of the towels in the cupboard. Too cute to disturb, found other towel. A moment after getting in the shower, a tiny kitten head pokes out from behind curtains, eyes wide and wondering. Her eyes are almost as big as her head. She jumps on the far edge of tub, watching where water hits the bottom of tub. So cute. I think, “what harm is there?” She soon slunk herself between the curtains toward the head of the shower, and watched the water more closely from the transparent inner curtain. I peeked at her from around the curtain, she looked up at me with her huge kitten eyes and said “meow”, sounding concerned. She is curious but also frightened. Eventually I made a grab for the soap, which she was huddled next to. This made her flip out and, literally, flip out of the shower. I said “aw, don’t go!” and heard a tiny “mew” in response. After awhile, I looked out of shower to check on her, worried she might be hiding or cowering near door. Instead, she was sitting and lethargically smacking a hairband on the bathroom rug. But she almost instantly noticed me watching and said “meow!” again, loudly, and bounced over, as if asking me a question. “In a minute!” I said, and finished my shower.

Kitten now has new experience in little kitten belt.

2/9/15
Rain rain rain.
Wind wind wind.
Wind blows rain
like powdered snow.
It’s only cold
because of the wind
on my wet hands and face.
Have to clutch my hood
so it won’t fly off.
At least,
I get to wear my ducky boots,
and matching yellow raincoat.
Music
distracts from piercing wind
and rain splashed glasses.
Dance at train stop
Mind over matter
That’s all that matters.
Cold is only cold if you think “its cold.”

Lady’s umbrella flies up backwards.
She attempts a fix, but
it only folds limply down its stem.
Umbrella’s are a useless invention
when wind is involved.

Accidentally wrote a poem.

—-

There’s a blue splatter of paint on the train wall directly in front of me. It’s shiny. Wet? How did this happen? Only in Portland does someone manage to splosh their blue paint on the inner wall of a city train. At least, I think it’s paint…it could be some other crazy chemical substance, or alien blood. Or alien loogie. Eeeeeh, it’s like, a foot way from my face, don’t think that shit.

Next bunch of tidbits

Lifey Tidbits #2

First bunch of tidbits here.

1/21/15

In the classroom where Poetry class is held, I arrive early. There are only four people in the room, including myself. I head to my normal seat, affixed by my Asperger’s need to sit in the exact same seat every day, but I see that the guy I sit next to is using my chair as an ottoman. I say “may I sit?” and notion at the chair. He removes his feet, but flings in hand in the air and rolls his eyes in the way that says “What you said is perfectly ridiculous.” Without my control, I snap at him, “Fine. I won’t then.” and sit in the next chair over. He said “It’s not my chair…!” in exasperation. I don’t say anything further, and go about arranging my things on the desk like normal, perfectly aware of the two other people in the room probably wondering what the heck just happened. Not sure why I snapped so suddenly. It’s not like me. Too much pet peeve. Makes me want to sock the person. Especially if they are female. It might also be because of the grieving process. I don’t know, I feel stupid but it felt good to stick up for myself even if it was over something so incredibly dumb.

1/26/15

There is a girl in Poetry class who shaves off and redraws on her eyebrows. I have never understood this fad, but this girl draws her eyebrows on in an angry angle every day that I see her. She looks like she is constantly disgruntled and perplexed about everything around her. Her eyebrows have her in a constant state of “Da fuck she just say?” She has perpetual bitch face. Why would she do this? Does she even realize she has constant bitch face? Would she appreciate being informed on it? Perhaps she thinks she is making herself beautiful and wonders why people don’t ever want to approach her…….

1/28/15

Dude I snapped at in poetry class still sits next to me. Like nothing ever happened. But now there is a weird tension in the air. Not aggressive or awkward…more like…competitiveness. It’s hard to articulate. It is like we are both waiting on each other’s next move, to counter strike or retaliate, or something like that. Today I doodled Mass Effect themed drawings into my notebook. Later I noticed he drew a picture of a thumb and finger making a cave holding a flag with a woman in rags and holding a spear standing within. He drew it with Micron pen. I doodled with my regular writing pen. It was obvious his drawing was a reaction to my doodling. All I can think is “what the heck?”

2/1/15

On walk home from train station, I saw a woman standing at the bus stop. She wore a pink baggy t-shirt and capri-sweats and no shoes. It’s February. Winter. Cold. She looked like she just got out of bed, literally, from sleeping to being at the bus stop in one move. She had her arms crossed in front of her chest in the same way Mom does it when she is cold, in a slightly hunched kind of way. This is my neighborhood.

2/2/15

Today, Poetry Rival was very antsy and cursing very outwardly about whatever was happening on his laptop. He tapped his keyboard violently. Tempted to be sassy and remind him that keyboard buttons are breakable. I ignored him though, but felt almost scared for my life. After his episode, and about 5 minutes later, I notice he is watching a YouTube video about Mass Effect…I was also wearing my Mass Effect hoodie. Is this intentional? It is like he is trying to show me things about his personality without actually talking to me. Am I just being paranoid? Maybe he has a crush on me now. First girl ever to counter his impoliteness and now he is in love. Oldest tale in the manga. I’m probably just being silly though.

More tidbits this way –>

Figure Drawing Day 2: Nude!

Nude figure drawing with one lady posing. We were still being adventurous and experimental this session, especially when we were told to make the figure look distorted during the warm-ups. I think a lot of good pieces came out of this one toward the end! I am liking the bamboo brush, but I definitely am not very precise with it yet.

30sec Figure Sketches Charcoal

30sec Figure Sketches Charcoal

1min Figure Drawings: Brown Ink

1min Figure Drawings: Brown Ink

1min Figure Drawings: Brown Ink

1min Figure Drawings: Brown Ink

1min Distorted Figure Drawings: Charcoal. (aka Sorceress)

1min Distorted Figure Drawings: Charcoal. (aka Sorceress)

5min Figure Drawing: Ink

5min Figure Drawing: Ink

5min Figure Drawing: Ink

5min Figure Drawing: Ink

I really like how half of my women turn out all sassy looking. I tried to sketch the last ones with contour lines, but I SUCK!

The distorted charcoal sketches I call “Sorceress” because shes all wobbly and has a staff.

The final pieces! I like how they turned out, but all of them are also boring in their own way.

10min Figure Drawing: Charcoal

10min Figure Drawing: Charcoal

10min Figure Drawing: Ink on Pastel

10min Figure Drawing: Ink on Pastel

The second one is my favorite. Even though its the most simple…I think it might because of those perky boobies.

10min Figure Drawing: Brown Ink on Pastel

10min Figure Drawing: Brown Ink on Pastel

20min Figure Drawing: Purple Sharpie on Ink wash

20min Figure Drawing: Purple Sharpie on Ink wash

The lower one, where she is lounging, I am SO PROUD of those hands!!! But little else.

Splash Color Here

 

Splash
Color
Here
and there…
This spot
here
Wet still
Glistening
Clinging
Mixing
to canvas
Waiting
Drying

Now
Color
Thick
Together
Layers
upon layers
Red here,
Mix
with brown there,
for sweeping
mountains. Blue
on top,
With white
brushed
in. Green along
lush valleys.

Create
here
An endless
Scene
Beautiful
Vibrant
Eyes
Sparkling
Splashed
with life
Color
makes
this place
alive.

Color

makes me

alive

Endless

Here

Splashed

to life.

Lifey Tidbits #1

Everywhere I go, I bring this green book with blank pages along with me and lately I have been writing in it entirely random encounters and observations I experience when going about my day. Some of them are kind of interesting, and since my writing lately has really taken off in a practice kind of way, I think it would be interesting to share them, to encourage me to do it more.

10/29/14

A bearded old man wearing huge blue sunglasses plays an acoustic guitar in the auditorium park blocks. It’s raining. He wears a short-sleeved shirt. He dances in circles as he plays fast simple chords in a chaotic melody. Perhaps that’s why he is managing to stay warm in the rain. Or perhaps he simply enjoys the feel of the rain hitting him as he spins around. He is just an old man doin’ what he loves, and being happy about it: playing the guitar while spinning in circles. Three children in different colored jackets and different ethnicities dance near him, using their different colored (closed) umbrellas like a Broadway show. The scene makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

11/3/14

A young man gets on the number 10 bus on my way to school, at the Reed stop. He has very stylish, wavy black hair and a torn denim jacket and black torn skinny jeans with a chain  connected from the wallet in his pocket to a belt loop. I can’t hear it, but he talks very sincerely to the bus driver and then turns around sullenly and gets off the bus. As he walks up the street, he flips his middle finger up backwards without looking back. Seeing the poor ragamuffin makes me want to throw $3 out the window for him. The bus driver is the same one who drives me to school every time I leave at 10:30. Everyday he barely looks at me as I get on the bus, barely acknowledging that his passengers are people, zonking out as he shoves his bus along. Although, if the ragamuffin wanted fair treatment, he might not want to dress in a street-punk-probably-steals-lunch-money-from-first-graders kind of way. Ah, moral dilemmas…

12/1/14

As I walk to Japanese class, I notice a girl with frizzy auburn hair stop and bend down in the middle of the street. When she comes back up, I see she is holding a kneaded eraser. She kneads it in her hand for a few seconds, still standing in the middle of the road, then smiles and stuffs the thing in her pocket as she continues on her way….Portland…

1/12/15

Zoned out and watching life from my seat on the train, I notice a boy with an art portfolio that looks like mine hurry his way up to the parking lot of the Division platform. He reaches the long set of stairs from the platform to the parking lot. The stairs are divided in two by a railing. As the boy takes a few steps up the stairs, he suddenly stops and stares at the woman ahead of him. She is fat and staring down at her mobile device, taking each step as slowly as possible. The boy analyzes the situation, then turns back, bolts quickly down, and runs up the other side of the stairs, taking two at a time. I couldn’t help but chuckle to myself. I am a bad person sometimes…

1/20/15

In poetry class. I notice, across the classroom, a fresh-out-of-high-school African-American girl sitting among a group of three old, white hair and wrinkles, Caucasian men. I assume they are discussing the poetry readings. The old men nodding and responding in agreement with what the girl says, and her vice versa. The scene is particularly nice. It shouldn’t be, but it is. Perhaps I have subconscious beliefs that all white old men are racist and all young people hate listening/talking to old people?

Next bunch of tidbits here.