|This was a tough one; Not only is her head tilted to the side, but back as well, so I am looking up at her.|
She really would make an excellent artists' model, but she's studying geology and has an interest in the Peace Corp.
|Taylor's smile straight on with no messing around.|
I forgot to tell the grandkids, that birthday checks end after eighteen, so Taylor didn't get one this year and is probably wondering why. Instead I asked her to tell me what she needed for her new apartment? Her answer was, "The walls are very bare." I promised to remedy that situation by Thanksgiving.
At first I thought some wild, colorful abstract, but given my total fascination with portraiture, I decided not. I'll paint her alla Andy Warhol only four, 18 x 18" portraits on one 36 x 36" canvas. I love her looks--actually admire her playful self expression via different get ups. I am a mood dresser myself, so I know where that comes from. Finally back in the studio, (it took forever for those carpets to dry), I finished what I started to do before the carpet cleaners got here: I made three other sketches of her head in charcoal/black pastel, each with a different look--just to get acquainted. If I can knock her down to just shapes and stay away from shading, acrylic would be the best medium. If half tones are a must, than oils it will be. Those decisions are still to be made. I am drawing freehand. That's for my benefit. The more I train my eye drawing free-hand and make mistakes,the better my drawing skills/judgement will be . On this "commission," I get that luxury.
I am seeing her in black and white, but in the featured drawing, and the previous drawing I posted of her,her lips are screaming paint me red--that can be decided last. Right now, I need a fourth for bridge. I'm going to have to comb through her FB page. I want a totally different character.
*CORRECTION: Thanks to those of you who subtly pointed out my (not Taylor's) mindless misspelling of bare. For you The Barely There Bear.
I barely saw the bear coming out of the woods. it was lucky for me that the dog started to bark and I heard his ferocious growl. We barely made it back to the cabin with its depressingly bare walls, which had pushed me out the door that morning. There would be no plein air painting till the next supply plane from Anchorage.
The bear barely left any paints unmauled and the easel was kindling by the time he sauntered back into the woods. Brutus and I sighed relief. We would see him coming the next time. Streaks and smears of Cad yellow made his black coat quit visible in the dark shadows of the trees. He was no longer the black bear that was barely there. 8/31/2012