A Cabin Commission

Cabinart – making art of cabins, using pencil. That is my roots. Now that I oil paint, when a commission drawing for a cabin comes along, I am thrilled. Thrilled, I say!

The defining characteristic of this cabin is the group of massive trees in the front yard. The truth is that I sort of wanted to draw it in a vertical format, focusing on the trees with just a hint of the cabin peeking through. That’s not why people want their cabins drawn, so I provided several sketches and this was the winner. I’m happy when my customers are happy!

Let Us Spray

This is what drawing student Gerald said to me when he finished his drawing. “Spray?”, you are asking, even as you read this. (Yes, I can hear you.)

Spray fixative is one method of preventing the finished drawing from smearing. Framing is another; workable fixative is a third. I’ve been told it adds “tooth” (that means texture in Artspeak) to the paper. It didn’t, but that’s another story for another time.

Early in my art career, drawing people’s cabins and houses was my main activity. One time, I finished a commissioned drawing of a lovely old home, grabbed my trusty can of spray fixative left over from some college art class and proceeded to ruin the drawing. It left little waxy spots all over the paper. They scratched off with my fingernail, and I learned a Big Fat Lesson: do a test spray on something else first.

Because of that unfortunate incident, I went off spray. Completely, cold turkey, no tapering down, no patch, just Q U I T. Go ahead and call me a quitter – I can take it. (I’m a loser too, in the true sense of the word. But I digress.)

A few years later I met a pencil artist who charged huge amounts of money for her drawings, used a wide range of pencils, and sprayed with Blair No Odor Fixative. I began using a wider range of pencils (see The Rules for further explanation) and the fixative. My prices stayed the same.

“No odor” was a lie – it stunk. I think the manufacturer meant “this smells like you can get high but don’t waste your time”, but “no odor” took up less space on the label. After several years of learning to depend on this marvelous stuff that prevented my drawings from smearing despite pulling them in and out of various envelopes, folders and picture frames, the magic spray was discontinued.

I hoarded 6 cans, and today I used the last spray from my last can.

There are other brands, other types, maybe even a Blair substitute. Ick, shopping. Add it to The List. Meanwhile, I’ll just be careful with my drawings as I complete them. There will be many. I’m not ready to tell you why just yet.

Let us spray.

And more on the collage

This is St. Patrick. Or, more accurately, this is a statue of St. Patrick.

This is a statue of St. Patrick with a bit of a glow, the outlines of gorse, and the outline of a headstone where the man who was born in the cottage was buried.

Irish Collage

Ever notice the word “collage” is the word “cottage” minus the t-crossing? I confused myself with my sloppy handwriting and couldn’t figure out what my notes meant – collage drawing or cottage drawing! Here is the Cottage Collage for Mrs. Bob in its current state of development:

And, for the sake of Mr. Google, this is a California artist’s report on a pencil drawing, a commission pencil drawing of several Irish scenes. Instead of being politically correct, I am trying to be technologically correct.

WIP, part 2

Work In Progress, remember? Wowsa, that castle is full of teeniny little parts. Have a look at hours and hours and hours of drawing. Of course I exaggerate to make a point – you knew that, right?

Back in the olden days, the latter part of the last century, before digital cameras and personal computers and all that, I used to regularly draw from 3-1/2 x 5″ photos from a film camera. Hard to imagine. These days a 4×6 seems like a pathetic little miniature photo!

W.I.P.

That means Work In Progress. I just made it up, but I’m probably not the first to do so. I’m also making this up, revising as I go, and Mrs. Bob said the most wonderful thing to me about that:

“Do whatever!  You’re the artist and I relish that…I love your work so do what you think looks best!”

Wow! This is the most fun possible with art – the challenge of a collage, Ireland (sigh), drawing with pencil, and complete freedom to use whatever ideas develop. Life is good. 😎

Did you really think those were armadillos??

Cottage Commission Commenced

I am creating a piece of art to the specifications of Bob, My Favorite Customer. (Since he calls me his Favorite Artist, it is only fair that I return the compliment!) He and his family discovered a piece of their history while in Ireland, and I have the privilege of drawing it in pencil.

Bob requested a sketch before I began because the cottage is dilapidated and needed some artistic remodeling. That’s to be expected of something built in 1873.

Good thing Bob knows I can draw or this sketch might have frightened him away. Instead, he approved it, and I began the drawing. Notice the use of 2 separate words to describe what is taking place – “sketch” is loose, rough, for the purpose of conveying visual ideas. A “drawing” will be much more careful and refined.

Bob likes to see the process as it is taking place. Some people prefer to just be surprised at the end; others like to be included and involved. I do my best to accommodate my customers’ wishes.

In teaching drawing, I urge my students to develop the habit of shading from top to bottom and left to right (left handers should move right to left) because it lessens the smearing. Me? I’m experienced enough to do it any way I want and not have a smearing problem! Or it may be that I am experienced enough to know how to deal with the smearing problem, should one occur!

More Links to Learning

If you are here, I’m guessing you have finished the first 8 drawing lessons and are ready for more. Help yourself – I love to teach people how to draw!

Cajon Pass

My maternal grandfather, Eugene B. Maise was a maintenance foreman for the Santa Fe Railroad working in the mountains of San Bernardino. In the late 1940s, he was approached by a photographer who requested help taking photos of the trains as they climbed through Cajon Pass. Note the coal burning engine pulling the passenger cars; the new diesel engines couldn’t quite make the grade. I drew this from a photo from Uncle Frank. That was before I had totally cemented my resolve to work only from my own photos. Besides, I needed a gift for Mom! (Thanks Mom, for rearing me here so I can be a California artist.)