This is drawn with ball point pens, in a recent journal sketchbook
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Bear Flies
According to the date in the margin, I sketched this on the same day as yesterday’s Daily Derriere. I don’t recall; it all blurs together. But dates in the margin don’t lie, I suppose. I must say, I seem to have been on a roll. Both yesterday and today’s drawings are quite good.
I sketched this with a black ball point pen. I don’t have much else to say about it.
My soon-to-be husband, Richard, in bed reading. This is his favorite reading position: lying on his stomach putting his weight on his elbows. This is drawn with a ballpoint pen; you can see that I made his face too small to start and simply drew it larger on top of the old, too-small head.
Drawn with a blue ball point pen.
Self-portrait. Ballpoint pen. Tombo fountain
brush pen. Too much information,
or not enough? A year later, I look back on this drawing with nostalgia, or
PTSD.
Here, I take a completely different tack from yesterday’s blog drawing
, trying to
see how simple and abstract I can get while keeping the subject matter
readable. I drew with ball point pen. It would have worked well in cut paper.
Welcome to our third month
of daily dickery, with no end in sight.
This
drawing proves the point of yesterday’s essay. It was drawing four days prior
to yesterday’s Gandolfini coincidentally commemorative sketch, and is of the
same type of man typified by James Gandolfini, without actually being an
attempt to portray the actor or any of the characters he created.
This is yet another post-stroke sketch, done yet
earlier than yesterday’s. It is executed with ballpoint pen, worked back into
with Tombo brush pen. It is very crude, not just in the line work put also in
the thought process. I allowed the distortion/exaggeration in order to include
everything I wanted in the drawing. Actually, I kind of like it.
We continue day #4 of our
vacations from the American Express “Daily Dick” sketchbook, concentrating for
the moment on sketches done in my post-stroke journal. These sketches have a
certain poignancy as they were executed during a time when I was unsure of my
drawing ability, uncertain about whether or not I’d be able to recover it. I’m
dropping back further in time with each day’s posing as I leaf backwards
through this journal, covering the period between March 20, 2013 (a month after
my spouse/lifemate John Callahan’s demise on February 17, 2013 to August 18.
2013, 3 months after my release from Glendale Memorial Hospital. The motivation
for this diversion of focus is that I am revisiting this volume before I file
it away.
No big
deal here, just a naked guy with a dick, drawn with ballpoint pen. Since his
hands and feet were out of frame, I decided to add them as inserts. As in, to
prove to myself that I wasn’t afraid of drawing feet or hands.
