If you have followed this blog for awhile, you may have noticed that I have a slight touch of a Cat Disorder. Nothing crazy. Trail Guy brings sensibility into my life, so we only have 3 cats. (We’ve had as many as 8, but that was short lived.)
Some dear friends who live far away have an unusually personable cat named Zelda. They sent a few photos, and I put all jobs aside to work on this one.
Everything else had to wait.
ONE MORE THING:
After giving up on a tiny portrait in pencil, I returned to something that I can succeed at drawing.
Then I added color.
Next, I started the second commissioned pencil drawing for the same customer.
If you need a little pencil drawing of a face and it happens to look just like an orange grove, I can do this for you.
The agreement with my customer M was that I would try to capture a likeness in her Dad’s face. If I was unable to do that, we would understand and accept that this job is beyond my ability. It is EXACTLY the kind of drawing job that I have struggled with for many years, and finally decided to stop accepting commissions for.
BUT, M is my friend and a great communicator, and I want to please her. I also like testing myself from time to time to see if I have improved.
Attempt # 3 was a reject.
Attempt #4 was a reject.
Attempt #5 was sent to M with this: “If this one isn’t right, then I am crying “uncle”, accepting the fact that this is beyond my ability, and throwing in the towel. (Jeopardy music in the background as the drawing awaits its fate. . .)”
I recognized that I was falling into the trap of trying to do the impossible. I thought that I had chosen a large enough piece of paper to include the whole scene with faces large enough to draw, but I was wrong. The most minute change, a slight dab of the eraser, half a pencil point width change, using HB instead H or H instead of 3H (those are pencil hardness/darkness indicators), a vague variation in paper texture. . . all I am doing is tickling the paper and hoping something works.
So, for once in my career of accepting challenges that are beyond my ability to execute well in a manner that pleases the customer, I am willing to quit on this one and STOP SAYING YES TO THESE TYPES OF COMMISSIONS.
Nope. Didn’t look like M’s dad. Bye-bye, drawing.
P.S. M, it is not your fault. It is mine for saying yes when I knew better. Thank you for your patience and for the opportunity to try one more time and then finally accept reality.
See? I have tried and tried and tried with these tiny faces in the past:
More Can’t See ‘Ems This one worked because the customer didn’t know the people personally.
Custom Pencil Drawings Another one where the customer said a likeness wasn’t necessary.
P.S. I didn’t cry. It is just a figure of speech. Thank you for your concern.
As I struggle along on this pencil drawing commission of faces that are too small for me to capture a likeness, you get to see the progress.
This is the original photo.
This is my first attempt at capturing M’s Dad accurately.
This is a scanned and enlarged version of the faces.
Here is the second version of my drawing.
And finally, so you will understand what I am working with, here is the drawing with a ruler.
Phooey. The inch marks don’t show. M’s dad’s face is 1-3/4″ high. That’s all.
That’s all I can stand of this today. I will go pull some weeds, because that doesn’t require perfection.
For years I thought that I was hopeless at capturing a likeness in a portrait. After taking a workshop from a premier colored pencil portrait artist (Ann Kullberg), I learned the all important principle, “Never draw a face smaller than an egg”. (not talking quail egg or hummingbird egg, preferably a goose egg)
This information helped, but I have never gotten comfortable or confident about capturing a likeness. I can spend hours making tiny adjustments, and in the end, I still have just drawn the guy’s cousin.
When I asked a friend/blog reader/customer, let’s call her M, if she would like a print of the Sisters in the Orchard (2 girls drawn from the back, no faces involved), she declined, but then sent me a photo of a photo that she would like me to draw.
The original photo is about 3×3″. This version is blurry. I said that it was too hard because it was too small and too blurry.
She sent me the original so I could scan it, sharpen things, lighten and brighten and enlarge and SEE!
I really really like this person and never want to disappoint a friend. So, rather than sticking to my conviction that this is really too hard for me, I went with the principle of It Never Hurts To Try.
I scanned the photo and worked it over on the computer. Then I employed every tool that I have (not going to bore you with technicalities or give away any secrets—I save those for my drawing students).
The plan was to do Dad’s face first, because if I couldn’t make him look right, there would be no reason to continue.
I am more of a “precrastinator” than a procrastinator; in other words, do the hard thing before there is time to fret, backpedal, renege, or chicken out.
I sent this to M, and now we will see if the drawing passes the recognition test. 
I am incapable of perfection, but I can see right now a few adjustments that need to be made. When the face is only the size of an average chicken egg, every adjustment is the barest little pencil stroke, a gentle tap-tap with an eraser, a teensy blur and a smudge, all done under a huge lit magnifying lens.
Will I ever learn to say no to these types of jobs?
Prolly not. . . eternally optimistic in the growth of my skills, the continual triumph of hope over experience.
The orange grove commissioner (doesn’t that sound like a job title?) chose view A.
She would like 2 drawings of the same scene, sort of.
I asked if she wanted the mountains visible toward the north end of her view—Alta Peak, Moro Rock, Castle Rocks—or the mountains toward the south end of her view—Sawtooth, Homer’s Nose.
She said one of each, beginning with the south end, so that if she changes her mind and decides on sketch B, C, or D, then she still has her first choice mountains.
Let ‘er rip, tater chip. (Or perhaps, “Gentlemen, start your engines”.)
First, the layout. What height for the distant mountains, where do the rows belong, get the hills right for Pete’s Sake!, where shall the main wind machine go…? Many little decisions, but not too much fussy detail in this landscape.
I looked at several photos of the mountains and foothills, enlarged Sawtooth from how it appeared in the photos provided by the customer, and tried to get in enough texture in the hills to be recognizable without actually counting boulders.
This is a combination of believable scribbling and very close scrutiny underneath a magnifying glass to make sure that no scribbling is actually noticeable… no loop-dee-loops or Ms & Ws (ems and double-yous look like rick-rack) or scritchy-scratchy lines are allowed to show. So the scribbling isn’t as random or casual as it sounds.
Never mind. This is how my drawing students and I talk about drawing. You might need to be present for a demonstration, or more likely, you wouldn’t care. Just be polite, ‘kay?
The bottom right corner will have closer leaves and oranges, with a touch of color.
I love these types of pictures—orange groves, foothills, mountains.
I have two new pencil commissions, both of orange groves with foothills and mountains in the distance.
I love this stuff! (Big happy face emoji could fit here but this is a blog, not a text, and we speak English here, not hieroglyphics).
Here are 4 ideas for the customer to choose from or develop into something else. Good thing she knows that I can draw.
She didn’t specify whether she prefers horizontal or vertical, nor did we establish which part of the mountains she prefers: Alta Peak with Castle Rocks or a bit farther south to show Sawtooth and Homer’s Nose.
She did say that she wanted a little bit of color.
You probably have a clear favorite but it is the customer’s opinion that will prevail.
I teach people how to draw, working from photographs. Because it is a skill, not a talent, we need a still photograph, on paper, so that we can measure, rotate the photo and the drawing to view it from other angles, and work as slowly as necessary.
When I began drawing, I was a slave to the photographs that I worked from. I learned how to draw from real life, but nothing would hold still long enough so that I could measure. I didn’t have the skill, the instruction, the freedom and confidence to just loosen up and let my pencil fly around, getting close enough.
It has taken me many years to be able to draw without reference photos. I can only do this on a few subjects, and I have to check with at least one of three things before I am convinced that it is a decent piece of work: 1. a reference photo, 2. the scene in real life, 3. after a bit of time, just study it to see if it is truly believable.
I am still learning. You too can learn.
Here are links to previous blog posts about drawing lessons:
(More) Lighthearted Lessons
Drawing Lessons — Fast or Good
P.S. Today’s drawings are from my drawing students.
Drawing is a skill, not a talent. It is like typing: anyone can learn to type. Some will type 25 words per minute, some will type 60, and some whizkids will type 90 wpm. All of them are typing. Those who get the great speed and accuracy probably have some innate talent, or perhaps they work more at it because they enjoy it more. Maybe they enjoy it more because they work harder at it.
The skill of drawing is a mechanical ability to put on paper exactly what you see, or exactly what you mean to put on paper. It is not artistic at that point—it is mechanical, methodical, painstaking, and systematic. 
Once you know how to evaluate what you are seeing, break it down into its foundational parts, divide up the visual parts in a manageable way, and most importantly, see accurately, then the artistic parts come into play.
The only people who don’t learn are the ones who quit too soon. If you don’t enjoy the process, don’t truly want the product, and don’t push through the difficulties, then you won’t learn.
No blame, no judgement. Drawing isn’t for everyone, just as sports are not for me, and knitting, gardening, or baking bread may not be for you.
But you won’t know unless you try.
Here are some links to previous posts about lessons:
Drawing Lessons are for Learning to Draw
P.S All of today’s drawings are by my drawing students.
There has been a request for a print of this drawing. I will order 2, unless other people tell me that they would like them too. I don’t know the price, but it should be lin the neighborhood of $35-50 apiece. After I hear how many people are interested, I will ask the printer for a price. The original is 11×14″, but I could get them printed as 8×10″ instead.
Interested?