A change of pace - strange dreams

A question I get asked often enough that it should be on my FAQ (but isn't) is whether I paint what I dream. Before I can form an answer, the first question is often followed up by comments of how my dreams must be utterly fantastic.

Nothing could be further from the truth. When my brain shuts down at night, it shuts down. If I had to paint the incomprehensible blather that my mind comes up with when I'm sleeping...well, I'd probably put myself to sleep (again) in the attempt. Generally it's prosaic, mundane imagery slapped together with about as much cohesion and story as a three year old would be capable of with a set of refrigerator poetry magnets, and the buildup of a shaggy dog joke.

And so I was as surprised as anyone the other morning to wake up with some rather vivid images in mind that begged to be put to paper in some form. Strangely, even in the dream I remember stepping out from among city streets to see this towering emerald giant, and wanting to pull out my travel journal to sketch on the spot (I suppose I would have been sorely disappointed upon waking to find any dream drawings to have been as ephemeral as the dream itself), but was pulled along through the rest of the journey by inexorable forces. Passage along a thin rocky path that wended its way along the spine of two oceans colliding, lit by the thin torchlight of city lamps.

At any rate, witness the first two images I have ever done from dreams. I guess I can't answer the question any longer with, "No, I never draw from my dreams."

The Maw

There's a neighbor who's garage always stands open, empty, gaping, black. You can see the moss growing on the wood inside, see the rootlets of shade loving plants piercing the walls of this ancient edifice, and the iron struts bearing it all up. It's dank, it's creepy, it's primal, it's just... well... it's the Maw.

And up above, the most glorious birch tree climbing to the sky.

A sunny afternoon in Oakland. Allergies going nuts.

Here's a nice challenge, seeing as I usually hate drawing perspective to start with, let's do a sketch not only that involves perspective, but is done without rulers, pencil, or guides! Sounds great! Well, I suppose I should get myself warmed up, seeing as I intend to go on the San Francisco Sketch Crawl in a couple of weeks. I've been looking forward to it, missed it the last two times due to prior engagements. Not missing it this time!

Potential

"Potential"
size: 12x16 inches
medium: watercolor

As usual prints, original, and all that Good Stuff, available at Shadowscapes.

Painting through the weekend to finish this piece up, since it's not a paying commission, and I've got some deadlines set up for myself to get started on once Monday rolls around. Gotta get back to having a few more chapters hammered out before the end of April.

NPR's "Planet Money" podcast kept me company for the last half of this one. Yeah, I'll admit it's not the rousing source of passionate fantasy inspiration you'd expect me to be listening to. Ironically the dire and materially rooted topics were an odd contrast to painting such a hopeful themed piece. That's the strange workings of my mind. It rolls along several tracks simultaneously. Dryads and tree spirits while listening to economic fiascoes and bailout plans.

Reminds me of how Dana is always a bit disconcerted to see letters and packages in the mail for me from the fantastic company and artist names of people I'm working with, tagged with "Inc." or "Co." at the end, or heading legal papers and contracts. "It's so bizarre!" he exclaims, to see these otherworldy names that conjure magic images in your head...rooted to something so mundane as a corporate and legal identity.

Arizmendi yummies

Friday afternoon errands. Running around Oaktown, shipping orders, groceries, returning videos. I decide to take a detour over to Arizmendi Bakery which I haven't visited in a while. One of my favorite places, from my Berkeley days even, over at the sister establishment Cheese Board. Who couldn't love a place that has a pastry called "Chocolate Thing"???

The place is always packed. Testament to the aromas of baked savories and sweets. People are squeezed in on every available seat, and elbow to elbow at the counter. But as if by magic, somehow by the time my name is called and I go up to the counter to pick up my slice of pizzasourdoughyumminess, a spot opens up. Always. It never fails.

Maybe they have a brownie keeping watch over the place to ensure happily seated customers.

Progression of a sketch: Potential

New painting concept sprang to mind last night.

Sketch #1:

Dug through my sketch books around midnight for a starting point. I find that discarded concept sketches for other paintings often provide a good springboard. For example this was initially a sketch for the Tarot Ten of Wands, last year. I ended up using a completely different sketch for that final painting.

Toyed with this for a bit, made some changes to accommodate the new vision.

Still though, not quite what I wanted. Wasn't going to work in its raw form. The same reasons I discarded the sketch the first time for the tarot were cropping up. I like the emotion of it, and the tender feel of clutching the orb, but the pose doesn't feel quite natural, and the aesthetic lines of it are not yet there.

Okay, so on to Sketch #2:

After a bit of scribbling and a layer of eraser dust in bed, had a basic figure just to get the idea out of my head before dropping off to sleep. Cleaned it up some more this morning.

Still unhappy with it. It's a much more refined line. I like the legs, like the face. But the body now is much too stiff. There is not connection to the orb that she holds. It's just an object resting in her lap.

Sketch #3:

Hopefully this one can be "just right."

Grabbed tracing paper. Traced the legs of #2, curved her body around the orb more to be a protective embrace and to try to capture that feel from #1 that I liked. Tilted the page at an angle to shift the weight. I think I have it this time. Going to continue in this vein and start refining the anatomy.

Tree Spirit art previews from the next book

Finished off the tree spirits section yesterday night.
I walk down to the post office this morning to drop off the disk with the first several chapters. Cinnamon bun from the bakery to munch at on my way back. I take the long path up past the creek and among the trees. Hit the off switch on my ipod once I can hear the rushing of the stream instead of rumbling cars and trucks, and let the music fade to be replaced by the music of the water instead. Let the sound wash through me.

The book's a fun change of pace from most other commissions I work on. It's mostly my own direction; no art director to tell me to make changes to the art or to tweak compositions. On the other hand the limitation is that once I start scanning a step-by-step, the decisions I make have to be rather firm. Waffling on color choices or making changes to a sketch midway through a piece is fine when it's just the final result that I'm concerned with. But when I'm trying to make the process a cohesive single pathway, decisions have to be made and stuck with to the end. The chaos of my usual creative process does not lend itself to teaching very well.

A couple of previews for the art:

Heart of the Wood

7.5x10 inches, watercolor

This one might look familiar to some, as it was based off the ink drawing I did a while ago. I love the golden browns of oaks, blanketed by coverings of spring-green moss. Peeked out the window to fix the color palette in mind before setting to work at this.

Apple Tree Man
5x7 inches, watercolor

Used to have an apple tree in the backyard of the house where I grew up. They were oh-so-sweet. Apples in the bag to lunch every day at school. Apple pies. (Mmm...why does my mind always come back to baked goods?)

An afternoon at the Ashkenaz

I get up this morning to head out with Bern and her 5 year old daughter Iliyana to Berkeley for some flamenco classes. I'm a little anxious as I've not been to any classes in a while. Bern and I mostly just do our own thing. But it's good to be injected with new inspiration now and then to get creative juices going. For that matter, same goes for figure drawing classes even when it comes to visual art.

Iliyana is in the children's class for the first hour. We have to wait our turn for the class that follows. We sit and watch at the sidelines among the parents, some of whom are enchanted by their little ones capering to the music of Carmen, others who seem a bit on the bored side, reading a novel or squinting at some paperwork. After a while, I pull out my sketchbook.

No pencil cheating I've decided now. Time to push further where I've already started the other day by using the less controlled brush pen instead of the usual minute points. It's how I used to do sketches in these books but somewhere along the line I lost my nerve and got too concerned with making it "look good" and started doing (very quick, but still) pencils first before laying the ink on top. As I was waiting for Bern to call and let me know she was here to pick me up this morning, I deliberatey did not pack a pencil into my bag.

Like not having been to a dance class for a while, touching black ink to a page without some guiding pencil lines can be a bit unsettling. Ink is so permanent. Each stroke has to be done decisively, with a purpose and a reason; knowing that once it has been laid down, it's there. Deal with it.

I watch the little hands stretch to the ceiling and curl in fleures. A dozen miniature black skirts twirl across the floor, following Yaelisa's graceful form. Iliyana turns hesitantly to look at us a few times, being the youngest and smallest in the class. Bern smiles encouragement at her. I touch black ink to the page.

gathered around to talk about abanicos

the older students dance some tangos while the two new ones sit back and watch