Saturday, July 23, 2011
Brighton Beach has nothing to do with a sandy beach or swimming or a town in NY in my book. The name has to do with handbags and belts. My everyday bag is a Brighton Beach wallet purse. It holds all my stuff--credit cards, checkbook,cash,glasses, pill case, lipstick, keys,--you name it, I've got it. It weighs just a pound and a half loaded, no chance for a shoulder injury here. I carry it every day. I carried it yesterday...
out to lunch with Helene. On the way to meet my friend, I stopped in at the art supply store next to the restaurant and picked up a supply of drawing pads and PITT pens. I've needed a boost. Art supply stores do it for me easier than cleaning the studio.
I've never been able to resist laying down my mark on a brand new, pristine piece of drawing paper. My Brighton Beach wallet/purse, sitting on the kitchen counter as I dropped it when I walked in the door, was the subject of the first drawing on the first page of the first drawing pad I took out of the shopping bag. Out came my watercolors too. I was back with that same bad habit of going over my lines, but that's me, always correcting, perfecting.
This Nikon drawing needs a lot of corrections, but the play of black, white and gray and my use of the total space definitely is telltale of my spacial design background. I've never been able to isolate subject from background. The background defines the subject, the moment, the way the subject fits in the world. Positive and negative space are one and inter-related. Nothing and no one exists alone.
My new beach hat looks pretty lonely though. This was the first drawing I did this week. I hadn't been to the art supply store yet, so my enthusiasm was still weak. The drawing shows it. The addition of a strong violet sand shovel and some lines with the PITT pens should add some oomph. I always did like the strength and definition that ink lends to watercolor. I'm glad I stumbled across them on the rack while chatting with some stupid nine year old who wanted "real artist pencils." "Berol," I said. The blank look on his face said he had a lot to learn. Me too.