Took the P de D M to be exhibited on Saturday night at a little gallery where a friend was launching her CD with a party. Uneasy, of course - it wasn't even dry - but happy that I was surrounded by friends. It looked pasty.
Haven't been able to get to studio, Bob here and now gone, worker still here. Today I go to draw and this afternoon to do a portrait study of a friend who is dreadfully ill.
At least I'm drawing. Feel as if I'm preparing to hibernate. Perhaps its time for dreaming.
Later; drawing done, Simon was the model and rather good too - used watercolors and think I'm trying to explore the medium rather than achieve a work or even store data.
Held a 'crit' afterwards. Laid myself open by taking a nude that I like and is difficult and possibly daft (Nazir with fork) asked for ideas and observations - why do I like it, what is it for. Not much forthcoming; a kind of permission from O-B to regard its two faces, Jim to contextualise.
Drawing V was harder. She is mortally ill, looks beautiful, gaunt, full of life and pain. As I started to draw in my whimsical way, saw that she would have to see it. No idea where she sits on the art spectrum. Started to hit the whimsy into classical shape, drew for a couple of hours as we chatted, realised she really mustn't see what I had done - she must have something glamorous and beautiful and this isn't. Told her she couldnt see it ('ooh vanilla!') that this was a work in progress and it wasn't fair to ask me to show a work-in-progress. Baffled the poor girl with science. She agreed. Now of course I must take the drawing and turn it into something acceptable. Drawing on primed board, I think. Spooky, wistful. What on earth did I think I was doing? Neither of us are pleased by whats happened.
No comments:
Post a Comment