I don't know how to edit pictures well as you can see, so sorry for the images being so dark. If you click on them you can zoom in on them and see the marks better. HA-HA
As if someone is actually reading this. :)
Friday, April 30, 2010
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Seventeen.
One of the most difficult things is to do is for a broke artist to find models. So we end up drawing anyone, who sits even a little bit still. Most of these are people sitting on trains and buses.
Mixali, done after a photo.
Shout out to my brother Apostoli.
Done purely for exercise on the bus, Aesop by Velazquez.
Infanta Margrita from Las Meninas by Velazquez
Bacchus by Velazquez done on the bus.
Fat nurse on train.
Maria reading on train.
Standing over a woman, I was able to see her reflection on the window. She was oblivious.
Occasionally I'll draw someone out of lack of a better subject. A guy playing his PS3 (I think that's what it's called) on the train.
Woman on a train. Something about the way this woman was sitting struck a chord with me. It's almost as if her body was saying, here I am, posing like so many Spanish portraits, draw me.
Two hispanic women talking on a train.
Mustached old man sleeping on an R train.
Old woman sleeping on an R train.
A self portrait done looking at my reflection on glass on a moving train.
Two friends enjoying their coffee outside of 9th St. Espresso.
A self portrait. Done by looking at my reflection in the windowed doors of 9th ST. Espresso. For some reason it reminds me of some of Rembrandt's self portraits.
I believe that you only see fragments of your surroundings, that you see objects with your eyes but you can't see everything focused. Your brain takes the information from your eyes and processes it for you. I think this is what the cubists thought too. 9th ST. I think of trees, cars, pedestrians of all measure, dogs and bikes, bikes chained to the 9th ST. Espresso fence.
At 9th St. Espresso dog owners come with their dogs. I never gave thought to animals in the city, I always felt that animals should have freedom to be animals, something the city cannot give them because of its nature, so I never drew them. At 9th St. they're pushed back into my brain, so this is the first of many to come I think.
A commission for my wife :) (She'd been pestering me for nearly a year and a half.) A 9th ST. espresso pastel. Pastel and sumi ink.
Seventeen panels in the gessoing stage. I wasn't thinking when I thought let me prepare seventeen panels at once. If you're a painter prepare 3, 4, 5 . . . or else you'll hate your life. :)
Mixali, done after a photo.
Shout out to my brother Apostoli.
Done purely for exercise on the bus, Aesop by Velazquez.
Infanta Margrita from Las Meninas by Velazquez
Bacchus by Velazquez done on the bus.
Fat nurse on train.
Maria reading on train.
Standing over a woman, I was able to see her reflection on the window. She was oblivious.
Occasionally I'll draw someone out of lack of a better subject. A guy playing his PS3 (I think that's what it's called) on the train.
Woman on a train. Something about the way this woman was sitting struck a chord with me. It's almost as if her body was saying, here I am, posing like so many Spanish portraits, draw me.
Two hispanic women talking on a train.
Mustached old man sleeping on an R train.
Old woman sleeping on an R train.
A self portrait done looking at my reflection on glass on a moving train.
Two friends enjoying their coffee outside of 9th St. Espresso.
A self portrait. Done by looking at my reflection in the windowed doors of 9th ST. Espresso. For some reason it reminds me of some of Rembrandt's self portraits.
I believe that you only see fragments of your surroundings, that you see objects with your eyes but you can't see everything focused. Your brain takes the information from your eyes and processes it for you. I think this is what the cubists thought too. 9th ST. I think of trees, cars, pedestrians of all measure, dogs and bikes, bikes chained to the 9th ST. Espresso fence.
At 9th St. Espresso dog owners come with their dogs. I never gave thought to animals in the city, I always felt that animals should have freedom to be animals, something the city cannot give them because of its nature, so I never drew them. At 9th St. they're pushed back into my brain, so this is the first of many to come I think.
A commission for my wife :) (She'd been pestering me for nearly a year and a half.) A 9th ST. espresso pastel. Pastel and sumi ink.
Seventeen panels in the gessoing stage. I wasn't thinking when I thought let me prepare seventeen panels at once. If you're a painter prepare 3, 4, 5 . . . or else you'll hate your life. :)
Monday, April 26, 2010
Sweet Sixteen or David Hockney.
So, David Hockney, the almost completely deaf septuagenarian British painter has won me over. The fucking bastard. For years I thought to myself, I'll be damn if I like anything by anyone who decided to wear this ridiculous hat:
or, these ridiculous glasses:
. . . looking like a faggoty Waldo.
Recently I came across this work, which finally changed my mind. Plus his wardrobe's sobered up a a bit.
or, these ridiculous glasses:
. . . looking like a faggoty Waldo.
Recently I came across this work, which finally changed my mind. Plus his wardrobe's sobered up a a bit.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Fifteen.
I haven't written anything in days but I've been busy. I have a lot to write, pictures to post but as of right now, everything is in a big pile which needs to be organized into some coherent mass. Perhaps it'll be more than one mass. I have to go to home depot for sandpaper. Toodles.
Seven hours later:
I dumped pictures from our camera on to the computer. I'm backtracking here. There are three groups of pictures: The Armory Show 2010, Agnolo Bronzino show at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, and a very recent trek through Chelsea.
This is us staring into Anish Kapoor "Untitled 2009" stainless steel and gold plate.
Anish makes these concave mirrors that people love starring into. This one was gold plated. Here's the one at the Met:
Going to Bronzino:
Artemis
Nik
Small head of a man. I'm fascinated by this portrait. It's done in black chalk, it's tiny. It's a masterpiece.
Chelsea:
Ursula von Rydingsvard
I'm sorry but I have to confess that I don't know who all the artists are as I was surveying everything quickly and didn't take notes. I will try to edit this post with that information as soon as I can. In addition I tried to upload a video which didn't work and I need to find out how to fix whatever glitch is preventing me from doing so. Till next time.
Seven hours later:
I dumped pictures from our camera on to the computer. I'm backtracking here. There are three groups of pictures: The Armory Show 2010, Agnolo Bronzino show at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, and a very recent trek through Chelsea.
This is us staring into Anish Kapoor "Untitled 2009" stainless steel and gold plate.
Anish makes these concave mirrors that people love starring into. This one was gold plated. Here's the one at the Met:
Going to Bronzino:
Artemis
Nik
Small head of a man. I'm fascinated by this portrait. It's done in black chalk, it's tiny. It's a masterpiece.
Chelsea:
Ursula von Rydingsvard
I'm sorry but I have to confess that I don't know who all the artists are as I was surveying everything quickly and didn't take notes. I will try to edit this post with that information as soon as I can. In addition I tried to upload a video which didn't work and I need to find out how to fix whatever glitch is preventing me from doing so. Till next time.
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