In drawing lessons, each student works at her own pace on the drawing of her choice. (Men are allowed too, but this class happens to be completely feminine.)Below:
Jane, on the left, sat outside a house and did a very nice sketch of it. She decided she’d like to do it in the highly accurate and detailed manner that I teach. So, she is working out all the dimensions, learning about perspective, and getting the “bones” of the drawing in place before she gets to the shading stage.
Elainea, on the right, has a very endearing photo of her grandson reaching for a Christmas ornament. We cropped it, and then she did a tracing of the main shapes. Next, she drew the shapes on her good paper, looking only at the tracing instead of the photo with its overwhelming details. After all the shapes were in place accurately, she began shading the child’s face.
In very difficult or demanding subjects, I usually instruct my students to begin with the main part. My theory is that if the main part doesn’t look good, then you don’t have to spend time on the rest of the picture. Also, if you do all the other stuff, then sometimes the fear of wrecking the drawing will cause paralysis.
In other words, “Life’s short – eat dessert first”.
Drawing lessons are one of the best parts of my art business. See? Happy people having fun!
Once a week, I spend an afternoon helping people draw at the Courthouse Gallery in Exeter. Some folks just need a regular place and time to draw, some need help with difficult projects, and some need instruction every step of the way. It is a pleasure and privilege to help every one of my students in whatever way they need.
This happens 4 people at a time, 1 hour per week. Each person works on his or her own piece, at his or her own pace. They pay by the month, a month in advance. Sixth grade is the minimum age. You don’t have to have “talent” or experience, just the desire to learn to draw.
My classes are full, but there are four alternatives.
Private lessons at my studio in Three Rivers, scheduled when and however it suits both of us.
A beginning drawing workshop at Arts Visalia, scheduled for Saturday, August 26th, 9-3.
IF YOU HAVE ALREADY TAKEN THE WORKSHOP OR HAD LESSONS WITH ME, continuing lessons in a group format at Arts Visalia, the 3rd Tuesday of the month, beginning in September.
Get on my waiting list for the Tuesday afternoon lessons in Exeter.
Drawing lessons are fun for everyone who participates. The only ones who don’t learn how to draw are those who quit too soon.
Claire drew the barn and we were quite pleased with the results. Her Mom requested leaves on the oak trees. It was very hard, but we figured out a way. The drawing looks faded because I photographed it under a cellophane sleeve while my camera battery was dying, Claire’s dad was waiting for her, and I was in a big hurry. My fault, not Claire’s!
Poppies at the Beach, pencil and colored pencil, private collectionSilver Beach (on the shores of Lake Michigan), pencil and colored pencil, private collection
Up through the summer of my tenth year of life, my grandmother had a house at the beach. This house may explain my predisposition toward shingle siding.
Family Beach House, pencil drawing, private collection
When I lived near the beach, I missed the mountains. Now that mountains are a regular part of my life, I miss the beach. So, let’s go to the beach, figuratively speaking, through pencil drawings. (I’ll probably be in the mountains when these posts appear. . . )
Wood, Wind, Waves; pencil drawing, approximately 12×16″, matted and framed, $400Beach Birds, pencil on paper, soldCentral Coast Pier, pencil on paper, sold
Being on a roll with pencil drawings of Mineral King makes me think very carefully about what I should draw next.
This is a view I recently painted, and it sold right away.
Allllrighty, then. Looks and sounds like a logical next pencil drawing. However, all the other drawings are vertical, so this scene will need some cropping, stretching and improvising, all while maintaining its believability.
How’s this? Is it believable?
To contribute to the authenticity, I’ve included the trail sign. In real life, the thing is about 1-1/2 feet off the ground. Weird. Can you spot its goofy little self in this drawing?
Here it is in all its midgetry. (My blog, my word. . . any questions?)
Over a year ago, I was at a dinner and ran into someone who had bought a colored pencil drawing of oranges from me in the early 2000s. He mentioned that it was still hanging in his office.
I said, “I draw better now; can I have it back to fix it?”
Yes, I actually said that to a satisfied customer. He was sort of shocked, but he agreed; then, a year passed and I heard nothing.
Last week, one of my drawing students came to class with the original colored pencil drawing. She exercises with the customer’s wife, and I guess the man decided to take me up on my offer.
I’ve learned more about color than I knew back in my days of colored pencil. This is probably a result of learning to oil paint. (Last week I said that growth is good unless one is a cancer cell. . .)
BEFORE: Central California Sunshine, a colored pencil drawing from 2001
AFTER: Central California Sunshine, revised in 2017
Here, let’s look at them small, so they show up on the screen at the same time (depending on your device):
The upper one looks almost finished, the lower one looks finished. The difference is probably too subtle for normal people to notice, but it matters to me.
This drawing is available as a reproduction print, 11×14, $40. One time a potential customer told me she didn’t like it because the light on the orange on the left looked like frost to her. Ever since that time, whenever someone buys a print, I add color to it. It is time consuming, and it has made me wish to get the original back so I could fix it.
THANK YOU, DENNIS AND PATTY, for a chance to redeem my reputation!
It is Friday, and the only new thing I have to show you of Mineral King is a drawing. My weekends have been taken with memorial services (one last Saturday and another one tomorrow), drawing workshops, art receptions, business presentations.
I’m not complaining, just ‘splaining.
The drawing is new. The scene is old, or perhaps “classic” is the right word.
Pencil drawing, “Mineral King From The Bridge”, 9×12″, unframed, unpriced, uncertain.
It has been awhile since I drew anything of Mineral King (except for water). Maybe a series of pencil drawings of Mineral King would sell as reproduction prints. Cards? Too much money to print, too little profit. But I’ll give that some thought too.
Want a laugh? Look at how I drew this scene in 1987.
At Arts Visalia, a non-profit gallery in (duh) Visalia, I gave a drawing workshop on Saturday.
There were 6 participants, all attending for different reasons – used to draw, always wanted to draw, tried it before but wasn’t successful, a painter who wants better shapes, draws a little but wants a boost. . .
We started with the basics. I explained that drawing is a skill, not a talent, and the only people who don’t learn are the ones who quit too soon (or don’t listen). We went through the tools and the steps, and then did a very simple copy-the-shapes exercise. Next was a shading exercise.
Then, we applied what we had practiced to working from 2 photos of oranges.
The workshop was 6 hours long, and this is how the drawings looked at the end:
The drawings are all unfinished, but these were eager learners, and I think each one will finish and keep practicing on her own. Very pleasant group of truly nice and interesting people. I feel blessed to have met you and am proud of you all!
Jennifer Logan was a friend of mine for about 30 years. We met in Lemon Cove at the Womans Club (yes, that is the correct spelling); I was taken with her English accent and for some reason, she liked me. She called me “Janner” and referred to herself as “Jennifa”, which tickled my fancy.
When my studio first was public, I shared space in a very fine gift shop called “Shirley’s Home” in Exeter, before Exeter had murals. Shirley hired someone each year to help us during Christmas, and for a handful of years we had the pleasure of working with Jennifer. It was during one of those times that Jennifer suggested to me that I publish a book of my art, which became The Cabins of Mineral King.
Left to right: me, Jennifer, Shirley – 1994? 1995? 1996?
I followed Jennifer to Foothill Fruit in Lemon Cove; the next year after working a temporary job at the Lindcove Field Station, they offered me a full time job, so I recommended Jennifer, who lived around the corner. A few years later, after I finished a temporary job at the Citrus Research Board, Jennifer went full time there.
There were also two years when I needed crutches several times, and Jennifer was always there with a pair for me to borrow. We laughed about it, and sympathized with one another while being thankful it was always for temporary conditions. She didn’t mind when I confessed using them to get into the neighbor’s swimming pool (only as deep as the top step.)
About five years ago, Jennifer asked me if she could take drawing lessons. I was astonished and delighted. She had done photo retouching and also set-painting in her life, but had a desire to try my style of drawing. It was a pleasure to meet with her each week, to have that regular time together. She began with this peony, which she later came to dislike (we call that “growth”!) (Jennifer, I’m sorry for showing this, but not sorry enough to not show how you increased in skill.)
We joked quite a bit about how she chose difficult subjects, working from photos that were too small to see the detail or just plain challenging in other ways. She was always cheerful and sometimes cynical at the same time, which would make us laugh.
She loved gardening, reading, horses, her dogs and cats, and her grandchildren. This is Anna, and although I haven’t met her, Jennifer said she caught the likeness.
Jennifer joined some of the secret oil painting workshops (given just for my drawing students, not open to the general public). She definitely marched to her own drumbeat – when everyone else painted pomegranates, she painted a buoy. When the class painted redwood trees, she painted a cat.
Her drawing classmates bugged her to try a redwood tree in pencil, so that was the project she was currently working on. She referred to it as “wood with leaves” and when I would correct her with, “Needles”, she would say, “Whatever”. Then we’d look at each other and snicker, and I’d call her a closet tree hugger.
Jennifer was the only person who called Trail Guy “Mikey”, and he liked her so much that he just accepted it. My dad used to tease her about her accent and call it “a speech impediment”, and she was always gracious with his offbeat sense of humor.
A few months ago, Jennifer surprised me by inviting “Mikey” and me to her upcoming birthday party. For the first time in almost 30 years, she actually told me her age, which was also a surprise. I said, “Jennifer, you could be my mother, and it wouldn’t even be a scandal! I had no idea.”
On Wednesday, June 7, 2017, Jennifer surprised us all by moving to Heaven. She went quickly with no fuss, no 911 calls, no tubes, no hospital indignities, and no warning.
Jennifer Logan, you were a dear friend and I choose to be grateful for the time we had. “See you, Sweets”, as you used to say to me.
Below:
