Lady Reading a Funny Book
When I got done with her, she resembled Whistler’s Mother. But while I was sketching her, she started laughing. Remarkable change in expression. I wish I could have captured it.
When I got done with her, she resembled Whistler’s Mother. But while I was sketching her, she started laughing. Remarkable change in expression. I wish I could have captured it.
The young lady’s top was almost pitch black, very difficult to draw. So I concentrated on the pants.
I barely started drawing Leaning Man when his fast food order was ready (go figure). He left. Being short of sketch paper, I began the Beard Man’s portrait on the same page. Here they are.
I drew a sketch of this man who was waiting across the room from me. I didn’t even try to get the face details. Any stray pencil line in the face area would ruin the sketch. I should practice drawing facial features.
This man was very heavy. I think he was much heavier in person than in my drawing. I don’t know why I wasn’t able to be more faithful to life.
In a departure from my usual practice, the sketch below was done from a photograph. This allowed me more time to work on the likeness. I used water soluble pencils for shading.
Another 15 minute portrait done at break time. I used water soluble pencil for the dark areas and washed the sketch after I got home.
I was struck by the difference between waiting room space and the promise of a capacious inner office, in the waiting area. The sanctum was partially visible through an open half-window, only revealing hints of what lie behind the door. If I were a child, I would have been terrified. From a lower vantage point, […]
The more tentative my sketch, the more it looks like the subject. I don’t know exactly why. Sfumato? Can a drawn line fall within the purview of the sfumato technique? Perhaps not. Maybe I should consider my initial light sketch as an under drawing and work on it to shade in areas (with sfumato).
I didn’t have enough time to complete this sketch on site. I worked on it at home, using the image of the man’s stance in my mind’s eye, taking liberties when my memory failed.