The last few days

Looking back at the residency, the entire month was a blur. I vaguely remember going to a big studio, sampling some fine restaurants, and several wet sidewalks pushing my feet forward in the late hours of the night.

I received all my packages of my belongings the other day, my art supplies and most importantly, my work. Opening them up in the context of my home, it seemed as though some other spirit had sent these strange creations to me, which I am now charged to guard. I updated my drawings page with these latest drawings. I encourage you to peruse and share your thoughts.

These drawings signify a big change for me. I finally found the courage to work large with ink, after having found a reasonably priced roll of watercolor paper (which I highly recommend for anyone wanting to work large but not break the bank). The Crane piece was not enough to sustain me after a while, coming to conclusion earlier than I had expected but not in the expected manner. So to amuse myself, I dove into this 42" wide roll of watercolory goodness.

I soon discovered that drawing large is quite a physical effort. The back and forth of one's body across the body of paper is like a rigorous dance. The paper, however, leads. I was at the beginning stages of learning this tiresome tango and with every step forward I would make, the paper chose a new mood or direction, coming up with a new narrative for a future audience to follow and myself to which I would reluctantly attempt to catch up.

Often I worked on the floor of my studio, leaning across the paper as far as I could, giving each stroke as much veracity as my aching body would allow. The dull, gray studio floor (which all studio floors seem to be) was hard and unkind to my knees & elbows, yet crawling across the pale two dimensional landscape was a joy.

I worked right up until the last minute, finishing the drawing pictured above the afternoon of our open studios. I had begun it the previous night with the intention of creating a dark, but romantic car drawing, a scene of something seen all the time, but rarely understood for the darkness and loneliness inherent in the image.