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 was sitting next to my coworkers-who-are-actually-seasoned-illustrators Gregory Weir-Quiton and Gus deGuzman. So that didn’t make things in my guts feel less intimidated.

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.

Figure lady says “Ugh… you didn’t get my face right”. Charcoal Hands says “Shhh….I know.”



5 thoughts on “Drawring.

  1. It DOES feel good, doesn’t it? Good on you! Your storyboard for the Disney workshop lives in my memory as one of the greatest things I. Have. Ever. Seen. Watch out for the india ink tho, it still stains like a you-know-what.

    1. OMG, J. Thank you! And by the way, I am saving up to commission something enormous and equine from you… I especially love your pieces that show the strength and beauty of those creatures. XX!

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