Sketchbook
This led me to talk recently with my friend, Tim—a very good artist, and we’ve made a buddy-vow: we are going to carry around a sketchbook, and try to draw something in it everyday. Doodles, masterpiece, or whatever. Unfortunately Tim, and his talented wife, Chris, are in the process of moving to Oregon. So if he doesn’t make it each and every day, I will cut him some slack until they are settled in Portland. Then I expect his sketching to resume and hopefully get reports on his blog. (Note to self: remind Tim about this.)
Now that I’ve been making up a studio summer work plan, separate from the word-driven series I want to develop, I am adding daily drawing. I am declaring my work space a Sketch-Full Zone.
This brings me up to today. I’m staring at my blank piece of paper wondering what to do while my creative muse has a coffee break. These past couple of weeks have brought the news of my neighbor’s sudden death (only 41, a massive heart attack) and those sad rituals that follow. Closely following his funeral came the shock that a young model we often use for life drawing was killed. Tzveta was a favorite of mine, and I still have a large unfinished encaustic I’ve been working on of her, as well as several gestures and drawings of her laying around.
So the only image I can see or feel is a page filled with dense, black scribbles. Maybe for today, that is just enough to keep going.





