I’ve always hated figure drawing. Ever since freshman year of art school. I felt so much pressure to “delineate perspective”, “capture gesture”, “do its face right”. (That last one was probably an internal monologue). So when I was invited to jump in for a figure class at 8 in the morning in the photo studio at work, I thought no f&$*@!% way….!
So of course I went. I didn’t want to weenie out. And figure drawing is the foundation of a blah blah etc…
I picked up a giant sketch pad and some charcoal for the first time in forever. I wanted to get messy. And not be stressed about things. My fingers were thick with charcoal by the end of the hour. Black streaks on my jeans. And it kinda felt… great. Here is my rust-tacular morning sketch collection.