Wednesday, November 29, 2006

Digging Down

So, I thought, "What would be the most embarrassing thing I could do to myself with my blog?" Then I thought, "Well, no, I'm not going to do that, so how about the second most?"

"Aha," I said, "Post my old attempts at drawing a comic book."

Unfortunately for you, and fortunately for me, I don't have it with me. It may, in fact, have been thrown out at some point. So instead, as a consolation prize, here are three pictures drawn about fifteen years ago, during my earlier flirtation with art. At the time, I thought these were pretty good. Right now I think they're... well, aside from being copies of comic book covers for the most part, they're not all that awful. (The girl is not a copy, and she is the worst.)

I'm happy that my current regular level is pretty much as good as my old peak performance (or so I think). That's encouraging. You can also see how deeply engrained my bad habits are.

Sorry about the image quality. These are very poor scans of faint pencil drawings on discoloured old paper. I played with the levels to try and get good contrast, but it didn't make them look very pretty.





Politics?



More dogged pursuit of an idea. Probably not all that good an idea either. Sharing unfinished or unsatisfactory work is a bit disheartening sometimes, but I like it when other (good) artists do it, so I figure people who come here might also like to see the struggles and, yes, failures.

Sometimes I get to a point in a picture where, while it seems to be going OK, I can feel it all about to fall apart. Of course, that also happens to me when I play board games or anything else I have an emotional investment in. So right now, I'm feeling kind of meh about the whole thing, but I've still got that little spark of optimism that keeps me thinking, "maybe I'll be able to pull it off this time."

Maybe. We'll see.

Sunday, November 26, 2006

Prelim



One part of a sketch I did tonight. I have this idea I wanted to see if I could draw. Things aren't coming out exactly as I imagined, but I'm having fun anyway.

Friday, November 24, 2006

Rapid and Repetitive



A very sketchy sketch of that same model, again with the same resemblance to other sketches of that model, but not resembling the model herself. I must have some sort of eye problem, I think.

Still, if you zoom out a lot and squint, some of this sketch almost looks OK.

Why do I keep drawing this model? Well, I think she's pretty, for one thing, in a way that isn't boring. Nice smile. (Again, obviously the resemblance of my pictures to her is not that good.) And I've got a bunch of photographs of her which have somewhat interesting lighting or composition. It's a nice combination for practice.

Friday, November 17, 2006

Why I'm Not Updating

Because I have lots of work to do, my parents are visiting, and Nanowrimo is going terribly. I should be back next month.

In the meantime, here's a picture I did some time ago. It doesn't really fit the character it's supposed to be a picture of, but it is a not-too-terrible picture, at least.

Wednesday, November 01, 2006

Nanowrimo Extract 1

I would put this up on the Nanowrimo site, but I think it's on fire at the moment. I already expect to revise this heavily... in December.

White light, the color of innocence, the light of the dawn. White skin not yet darkened by the sun. She ran between the tree trunks, her feet leaving blue pools of shadow cut in the snow, her coat sweeping a wake behind her. She twirled and jumped, sticking out her tongue to catch the glittering dust falling from the branches overhead.

“We can’t stay long. You’ll catch a chill.” The nurse moved at a more sedate pace, picking her way carefully along the path. Her long coat of deep blue drank in the light. The gold threads on the cuffs and collar glowed with it.

The girl made a defiant face and bent to dip her hands, safely encased in mittens, into a smooth hill of white. She began to gather and press, but the air was too cold. Her sculptures collapsed into formless heaps before she could complete them. The nurse smiled indulgence. No harm done yet, and no need to assert her authority. She glanced behind, to the trail of their footsteps leading back to the gate, and the tower rising behind that. Her eyes were drawn inevitably to one certain window.

In the room lit by that window, the nurse knew, lay a woman. The woman was the girl’s mother, and she did not look out over the field to see her daughter play in the winter snow. She had not risen from the bed for many days. She lay there, on her bed, and waited for the black wings to come and take her.

The girl did not know. It was better that she did not know. A child should not be burdened so, not so young. That was the Lady’s will.

The nurse returned to watching her charge, and so she saw the visitor’s carriage emerge from the wood.