One week: 100 people [days 3-5]


Well, I took up this challenge Monday (17th), and it’s now the 22nd, making today day six, but these are drawings from days three through five, and not in order. Just haven’t had time to finish and scan everything.

So, I’m only at 58, which means I must aim to draw 42 more today and tomorrow! I’ll try. This is quite a challenge, especially as I’ve been getting a bit precious about some of these, spending a fair amount if time. It’s a good challenge. I’ll be circling round again tomorrow and Monday to tally it all up.

Continue reading

1 week : 100 people [day three]

Well I nearly made it to 42 yesterday, on the ferry and at the beach. I’m only posting one spread today, as there is more work to be done on the rest of them. Some watercolor and inking, probably. Stay tuned for more!

1 week : 100 people [day two]

I’m behind where I ought to be; only 23 people after two days. Yesterday I slowed down, took my time. As I did, I wanted it to be about quality over quantity— yet the challenge itself is all about quantity!

I will endeavor to catch up, and in the meantime hone my skills; try to get faster without sacrificing quality. Most of day two were from photographic references, by the way.

1 Week : 100 People [day one]


This month, Urban Sketchers Chicago is holding a 1 week 100 people symposium. I’m not there, but have only recently heard of this particular challenge, so I decided to give it a whirl. (They do it in 5 days, but I’m going to allow myself seven, as 7 days makes a week.)

Anyway, I did fourteen drawings of people last evening. These are mostly imaginaries, not from life (although a couple were ones I glimpsed on Netflix, on in the background). I’ll be in the park this evening, so there will be loads of people to observe and draw there, too.

Black ink bleeds into paint; makes the colors more tertiary

I tried a different approach for this first one— paint first, ask questions later. But when later arrived I decided not to go back in with ink at all; I rather like the floaty quality of it, so left it as is.

Above is one I drew earlier in the week out at the beach— the abandoned buildings at the end where Riis turns into the Rockaways. I painted it a few days later, and here, too, a new approach— a desire to be less literal about my use of color, or at least my placement of it. I like how the bleed of the G2 pen worked with the color.

Continue reading

Returning from Riis Beach after a light rain warned of a coming storm

The rain was very light, but the skies were darkening. After learning what the satellites warned, we broke camp— packed as quickly as possible, ran to the boardwalk and rode fast to beat the real rain at our backs. Made it to a bayside pub to wait out the rain then another quick dash to the ferry dock.

By the time everyone boarded the rain had stopped. Later, as we rounded the bend toward the Verrazano Narrows, the divide between the portside storm and clear skies ashore (starboard) was dramatic, and those of us on deck got a little of the rain. (Still, better to be on deck in rain and wind than below in the too-chilling air conditioning.)

The situation of the weather in these photos brings to mind the original meaning of the word POSH: Port Out; Starboard Home. On a larger vessel, posh seats would have been just the thing in this case.Back in Sunset Park, cycling northward on Second Ave, the post-storm light was too good, so I had to stop to take pictures a few times. 

From here I can see the curve of of the earth

Here are the days—
Heat, haze
on the horizon like a
matte painting, wavering

This part of summer
finds me un-hungry.
I have no appetite.
My desires simplified,
bleached
like the half-shells of
bi-valves, left hollow on the sand.

The sounds of waves,
shrieking gulls, soft wind—
And the gradual granular erosion
of my skin, cell by cell.
A pretzel taste on dry lips.
The penetrating tiredness,
and how sun-soaked skin
feels temperatures differently now.

The monotony of waves,
endless motion
that results in a kind of
pounding stillness,
a loud silence,
a dense-packed solitude.
Time stops for a few hours.
There is a profound reassurance
in these contradictions.

Tide in, tide out
Salt and sand—
abrasives
that soothe, and erase.

Continue reading