Approaching Teec Nos Pos - graphite on paper

Approaching Teec Nos Pos

9x12 - graphite on sketchpad

So, today was one of those days I felt inclined to sit down and draw.   Drawing skills, aside from being an absolute necessary skill for painters, are something that I suspect many of us don't practice enough.  I'm always in awe of the artists whose blogs I follow who regularly post drawings they do, either as the beautiful loose field sketches of Sherrie Y or more detailed renderings in colored pencil, such as William (Bill) Cook.

I'm in a slight lull as far as my sense of direction goes for painting.  It's not really an artistic block, but more like being overwhelmed by the possibilities and all the things I want to accomplish.  Yesterday, we took an afternoon trip to Haviland Lake, and I brought along my gear (noting to leave the heavy French easel at home), excited about getting out to paint.  And, I painted, but it didn't go anywhere, and I felt my concentration sort of slip away as things just didn't come together.  But, that was totally okay - it was good practice to try and paint the ever-changing reflections on the lake.

Ever since we got back from AZ, I've been itching to do a new roadrtrip series based on the photos I took.  It seems that Hwy 160 is my artistic muse, always beckoning with that constantly changing landscape that draws me in every time.  I see the same features, and structures, and even creatures, on each trip, yet they never get old.  

So, I thought I'd at least dip a toe in that proverbial bathtub and do a drawing of what will be one of the first paintings in the series...whenever I decide to start them.  It is of this long sweeping stretch of highway that is just east of that small Navajo community Teec Nos Pos, and a few miles west of the actual Four Corners monument.  

The drawing thing was good.  I like it because, unlike painting, I can draw right at my computer, and listen to my favorite songs on my YouTube playlist.  After getting into "the zone", it's great.  Drawing with pencil is a very disciplined thing - you can't be lazy and use color.  It's all about value.  Since this particular image doesn't have a great deal of value range, that made it a bit difficult.    And, it took me longer to do this drawing, which isn't much to write home about, than it does to do a painting of the same size.  It was exceedingly difficult to photograph as well.  

But, it was just what I needed today.

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On an unrelated note, I was delighted to find out that all 3 of the photos I entered in the county fair last week won ribbons!  And, both of the paintings took blues and reserve champions, but there weren't many entries this year, so it wasn't quite as exciting as the photography wins.

Here are two of the three photos - both entered in the "Wild Animal" category in the Adult Intermediate division:

"Melissa Blue"

10x8 inches

First Place and Reserve Champion in its category

"Bramble Hairstreak"

8x10 inches

Second Place

Both shot with my entry level Nikon D40, Nikkor 55-200mm DX AF lens, and printed at Walmart's 1 hr. photo lab.  Just in case anyone thinks it's all about having expensive DSLR's and high-end glass...it's not.

Art of the ancients: a trip to Comb Ridge

"Towards Monarch Cave"

9x12 - graphite on paper

Finally back, sort of...a cold that decided to kick in on the day of our trip managed to take the wind out of my sails as far as getting much of anything done in my studio since our return, although I did manage to go through and edit the 300+ photos I took.

Otherwise, I did some pretty bad charcoal sketches from some of the photos yesterday, and then today, this quick pencil sketch. It probably showcases my rather weak drawing skills more than anything, but it was all I was able to muster between the headache and sinus pain that has plagued me for the past 2 days.

Back to the trip.  In a word, it was amazing.   I absolutely love this land.   As we drive and hike through the washes and along the edges of side canyons, I find myself never wanting to leave.  

Butler Wash Road & Comb Ridge

We come to explore the landscape itself, but also to experience the culture of those that inhabited the region since before the birth of Christ until the 13th century.  Evidence of their presence - cliff dwellings and rock art - is found all over the area.

Comb Ridge, our destination on Friday, is a large, 120-mile long monocline that begins about 10 miles west of Blanding, UT and runs in a north-south direction, then turning east-west before terminating near the Navajo town of Kayenta.   A photo of the southern part of Comb Ridge east of Kayenta may be seen here.

Trail to Procession petroglyph panel

A non-descript dirt road just west of Bluff, UT, heads north off of Hwy 163.  It has a small blue-and-white road marker, but otherwise, there is no indication of what it leads to.  Unlike Mesa Verde, where everything is paved and made available to the masses,  Butler Wash is a completely different experience, which is its appeal.  You have to work to get there.      

Small, unmarked spur roads are the only indication of where to stop.  Trails are also unmarked, save for the periodic BLM sign reminding you of the cultural significance of the area and to not take or disturb anything.   

View of the monocline from the trail

The hikes are pretty short - generally around a mile or so - to each of the destinations.  However, they aren't casual strolls; the trail to the Procession panel went up and down some steep slickrock, with about 600' in elevation gain.  Going to the top of the Comb and looking over the rim like we did added an extra 200' or so to that.  

Our first stop was the large section of petroglyphs known as the "Procession Panel".  Named for the 179 human figures and several animals painstakingly pecked into the sandstone face, it is a remarkable piece of art in its own right:

Procession panel panorama
[click on photo to see larger image]

The lighting was far from ideal for photography, but what are you going to do?  Take photos anyway.  It was fascinating to look at the composition of the panel:  numerous small figures converge from three directions to a circle.  Some of the human figures appear to be elders or perhaps shaman, carrying curved staffs and positioned between the smaller figures:

And, there is this group of 5 that appear to be carrying torches:

Clearly, some artisan(s) went to great effort to create this panel.   It is located a few miles in either direction from the nearest cliff dwelling, far out of the way.  So, what does it mean?  Does it symbolize the mass exodus of the people from the region to the south?  A meeting of clans?  Does each figure represent an actual individual?  One can't help but to ponder such questions while looking at the panel.  

Another 1/3 of a mile past the panel, and you come to the edge of the monocline.  Some hikers we passed told us of Moki steps (depressions carved into the rock), but we didn't look for them.  Instead, we got a panoramic view of Cedar Mesa to the west, Monument Valley to the south and Comb Wash about 1000' below.

Sleeping Ute Mountain framed by the walls of the adjacent side canyon on the way back down:

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I'll add more photos from the trip with brief descriptions in later posts, following the daily paintings.  With luck, that will be tomorrow.  

A splash of color

Anna's Hummingbird with Hummingbird Sage

graphite and colored pencil on 300 series smooth Bristol, 9x12 in. 

Just finished this morning, this is several "firsts" for me:  first time working on Bristol paper; first time drawing a bird; first time I've ever incorporated elements from different sources to form a drawing.  The reference photo for the bird was one of the subjects on WC's "weekly drawing thread", and I knew I just had to draw him.  I also knew that a standard graphite drawing wasn't going to be particularly eye-catching, so I decided to add just a splash of color using a few layers of Prismacolors to bring attention to his glorious throat feathers.  I also did some quick charcoal sketches of a zebra and koala that I posted there, but aren't worth posting here.  

After I finished the bird, I was quite pleased with the way it turned out; it's by far the most detailed drawing I've done in over 15 years.  However, it was just a "bird on paper", and essentially nothing more than an illustration.  The photo was superb; tack-sharp and with excellent bokeh (artistically pleasing background blur in a photo), but I felt that wouldn't translate so well to the drawing, as it would likely obscure the wing detail and shape.  So, this morning, I decided that adding a botanical food source of the species might be fun and add some interest to the drawing - in this case, "hummingbird sage" [Salvia spathacea].  It is a composite drawing; I had one photo that I used for the actual plant; another to make sure the plant was in scale to the bird, and another to use for lighting.   Looking at the photo of the drawing, I think I need to go in and darken up the foliage a bit.

Other neat facts about Anna's hummingbird:

- habitat is all along the west coast, including AK, and as far east as southern NM

- eats insects as well as nectar

- can be mistaken for ruby-throated hummingbird; the white splash behind the eye is indicative

- males perform a singing and dramatic diving ritual to attract a mate

Introduction

Hello, and thank you for taking the time to visit my new art blog.  I thought I would use this first post to go into a bit more detail about my art background and show some examples of my earlier work in a variety of media that I've worked in (and experimented with) over the years. 


As a child, I loved, loved, LOVED horses, so they were center stage in my life.  Since I couldn't own a real one, drawing them was the next best thing.  I was never "taught" how to draw; I just copied what I saw.  My mother was an accomplished artist, and I remember looking at drawings she did as a child, and the detailed pen and ink drawings of horses and birds done while I watched, and desperately wanting to be able to draw like her!  The earliest drawing that still exists was done when I was either 8 or 9.   I probably drew it on cheap construction paper (clearly not acid free!).  Apparently, my mother was sufficiently impressed that she entered it for me in the Yavapai County Fair [Prescott, AZ], where it got a blue ribbon.  After nearly 35 years, exposed to smoke, sun, and air, it is definitely showing its age:

Early horse sketch - 4.5x6 in.,  c. 1974-75

I probably drew it from a photo, and I'm sure I added the bridle, since you just don't see photos where a horse is walking with split reins draped across its withers as I have depicted...ah, the follies of youth!

A photo I took of my first pet - a red and white Abyssinian guinea pig named Farrah - inspired this drawing, done posthumously, a few years later:

"Farrah" - graphite on paper,  9x12 in., c. 1979

(photo slightly cropped from orignal size)

Other interests turned my attention away from drawing in high school, but for some reason, I decided to pick up where I had left off during my first year of college.  Now, instead of horses, I wanted to draw people.  I never dared draw them as a kid because I thought they would be far too difficult.  But, I decided to give it a try.  Recognize the original magazine (color) ads that these drawings were done from?: 

Calvin Klein couple #1 - graphite on paper, 11x14 in.  c. 1984

[irregular color is due to uneven ambient light]

Calvin Klein couple #2 - graphite on paper, 11x14 in.  c. 1985

[irregular color is due to uneven ambient light on drawing]

These were both for Calvin Klein underwear - his and hers.   I thought the photos were beautiful depictions of the human form, and that they would look great as graphite drawings.  The fact that there were no faces to try and deal with clinched the deal.  These took me at least a month apiece to complete, and even after 25 years, remain my favorites.  They have been re-matted and framed a few times, and do show some yellowing from age.

I attended the University of Arizona from '84-'89, majoring in nutritional science/exercise physiology.  With that heavy science load, almost any class that wasn't within my college [Agriculture] or on the required class list was considered a "humanities" credit, and of the 9 units allotted, 6 went to art classes.  I desperately wanted to take a figure drawing class, but the prerequisite was Art 101...so, I took that first, and I am so glad I did.  The professor was excellent and in addition to learning about basic drawing concepts such as negative space, contour drawing, etc., we were also introduced to color via oil pastels.  Our textbook was Betty Edwards' Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain, an excellent book that I would recommend to anyone wishing to learn to draw or improve their dawing skills.  I seldom drew from photos during that semester, and never for the class assignments.  The next semester, I took figure drawing, which I enjoyed as much as I thought I would.  Working from live models teaches you to work quickly and efficently and I was amazed at how much my drawing skills improved.  Learned several new techniques and  also worked in Conte' crayons.  On a whim, I entered two figurative drawings - one in ballpoint pen and one mixed media - in the Pima County fair in probably '89 or '90 and got blue ribbons for both.  Neither are in my collection anymore, although my mother owns the pen and ink.  It never occurred to me to take photos of any of the artwork I did and gave away to [usually] boyfriends as gifts.

Towards the end of my Art 101 class semester, I recall having a conversation with the professor, and asking him if he thought it would be useful to maybe obtain a double-major in art, or a minor.  He looked at me, and said:  "Don't waste your time with that - just go for a Master's [MFA]."  I wish I'd taken his advice, but as is often the case, hindsight is 20/20.  Instead, I chose to continue with my plans to go to podiatric medical school.  After all, everyone knows how difficult it is to make a living as an artist, how competitive that industry is, and how lucrative the medical profession is...right?  Right.  I would always have art as my passion and hobby, I reasoned, and medicine as a profession.

I entered the class of 1994 at what was then CCPM in San Francisco, CA, excited about becoming a foot doctor.  During your first year of medical school, you learn anatomy and other basic science classes.  As a podiatrist, your specialty is the foot and ankle, so in addition to our general anatomy class, we also had a lower extremity anatomy class:  musculoskeletal structures from the pelvis down, and including the spine.  As part of this class, we were each checked out 1/2 of a skeleton for study.  This turned out to be quite fortuitous for me - I was able to accomplish two things at the same time:  keeping up with my drawing habit and learning anatomy.  On weekend nights, when UCSF and SFU students were out partying, I was sitting in my bedroom in the two-story flat I shared with 3 other medical students, drawing and labeling bones.  Thankfully, these were all in a sketchbook which has remained in my posession.  Here are a few of the drawings.  All are c. 1990-'91:

Left os coxa -  graphite on paper, 8x10 in.

  Posterior distal femur and articular surface - graphite and colored pencil on paper, 8x10 in.

Anatomical joints of the tarsus - graphite and colored pencil on paper, 8x10 in.

Functional joints of the tarsus - graphite and colored pencil on paper, 8x10 in.

During the year, I thought my LEA professor might find the drawings interesting, so I showed her the sketchbook.  Almost immediately, she asked if I would be interested in doing medical illustrations as work study for next year's syllabus.  Get paid to draw?  No need to ask twice!  Since the illustrations needed to be easily reproducible, they needed to be in pen and ink - a medium I'd never used before.  I was supremely lucky to find a used copy of an outstanding book on scientific illustration, by Phyllis Woods.  I bought a crow-quill pen set and using techniques in the book, taught myself how to use this medium.  Unfortunately, I never thought to keep copies of all the illustrations I did for any type of portfolio. 

In addition to this work-study job, I also did illustrations for our school newsletter and also designed our class t-shirt.  I remember a classmate saying to me at one point:  "Why didn't you become an artist instead of going to medical school?"  Good question, that.  At the time, I told him I thought I probably had more to offer as a physician than as an artist.  Later on, one of the biomechanics professors hired me to do two freelance medical illustrations, one of which was published in a journal and the other used in a slide lecture series.  I got paid more than workstudy wages, and it was a fun challenge to boot.

Being able to utilize the left side of my brain allowed me to do well enough in school to secure a sought-after 3-year surgical residency after graduation.  It was during the fall of my internship year ('94) that I stumbled across the art/craft/hobby genre of "customized model horses".  I had no experience with sculpture at all, but my interest in horses, combined with my knowledge of human anatomy and how structure and movement relate to the three body planes, I had a decent baseline to start.

Realistic equine sculpture, generally a mixed media type of work, is what I'm best known for, and the body of work that I've documented pretty well.  My website, although not current for a bit over a year, shows a relatively recent selection of my paintings on the sculpture "canvases", all of which were sculpted by a variety of talented artists.  All my current work is done in oil on an airbrushed gesso and acrylic underpainting, although my initial attempts were in hand-painted acrylics...a medium that I have never come to embrace or developed any skill at using.

I've never done watercolor - it has always seemed to me to be the most difficult and demanding of all the media, as it is often difficult, if not impossible, to correct mistakes.  Perhaps when I have been painting in oils for a few more years, I'll give it a try.  The closest I've come was hand-painting a ceramic tile.  Joanie B, a very talented ceramic artist, had a table set up at an equine art show one year, where people could hand paint a tile that she would then glaze and mount in a frame, if desired.  The reference photo was taken from a mazagine, and the water-soluble ceramic pigment applied in thin washes, much like I assume watercolors are.  It took me a good few hours to do this, and I ended up doing a tile for Joanie as well:

Ceramic art tile set in black frame - 6x6 in.  c. 1999

After I finished my residency, I moved to Flagstaff, AZ to set up my practice.  During my 4-year stay there, I actually supported myself via commissions and one of a kind sculptures that I sold via my website.  I maintained my sketching habit, and did a handful of pastels.  I started out using cheap Alphacolor pastels on regular drawing paper, but then added some Rembrandts and switched to Canson Mi-Tientes.  This one, done 10 years ago, was based on an photo ad in Conquistador magazine [for Spanish breed horses] that I believe may have been taken by Robert Varva.  I drew it one evening and it is probably my favorite pastel painting to date.  Because taking it out of the frame would permanently strip the hanging wire screws in the back, I had to take the photo with the glass - glare, reflections and all.  But, it gives you an idea.  I think this was the last pastel I completed as well. 

Close-up of Peruvian Paso - pastel on Mi-Tientes pastel paper, 12x18 in. c. 1998

While in Flagstaff, I met and became friends with the race director of the Northland Hospice Run for Your Life 10K roadrace.  I had written an article for the local paper as part of the race promotion on health, and she came over to my office to discuss something pertaining to the 2002 race, and after seeing another pastel (landscape) hanging in my office, asked if I would consider doing the artwork for the following years' race t-shirt and poster design.  It didn't pay, but what a great opportunity for some exposure!  I ended up closing my practice and relocating it to Chino Valley, AZ by then, but I ended up doing the designs for 2003 and 2004.  Here is the '03 artwork, cropped from the poster: 

Run For Your Life '03 - acrylic and gouache on 300# watercolor paper, 8x10 in.

I stopped drawing and doing any type of 2D work completely in 2004, probably after the last RFYL design.  I tried putting more of my energy into making my 2nd (and then 3rd) practice locations work, so the artwork took a sideline.  I never stopped daydreaming about painting the surrounding landscapes.  I purchased a 2nd digital camera with the intent to take reference photos of remote places (namely, the inner depths of the Grand Canyon) for later painting material.  But, for years, I did nothing except collect more pastels, fancy paper and an inspiring library of books.   I continued to do commissions on the resin blanks, but I was finding it harder to get motivated, and as my techniques were changing, it was now taking *longer* to paint a piece. 

A series of personal and business events led me to close my failing medical practice for the 3rd and final time, retire from medicine, and relocate to coastal CT with my boyfriend for a job he was offered for a 4-year committment.  This also gave me the opportunity to pursue art full-time, as I wasn't going to have to fully support myself.  It sounded good in theory, but I found it increasingly difficult to discipline myself to work on equine art commissions. 

Earlier this year, after a trip back to southern AZ, I decided that it was time for me to change the direction of my art and pursue more 2D work and perhaps some non-equine sculpture.   Whereas I have developed a good eye for color and color mixing, that has been limited to equine coat colors - I don't have 15 years of experience painting skies, foliage and everything else that I want to do.  And, drawing, just like any other skill, subscribes to the "use it or lose it" school, and boy, were my drawing skills rusty!  I have begun to draw semi-regularly since early July, but I'm trying to make that happen every day.   After years of painting in multiple thin layers where the paint is controlled and blended to create realism, and where visible brushstrokes are a fault, it is like starting from scratch.  While I admire and appreciate realism when it is in the form of graphite drawings, and paintings of animals and some florals, that is not the ultimate direction I wish to head with my paintings, particularly landscapes. 

I could also see myself getting into ceramics a bit more.  They offer endless possibilities for artists, and that appeals to me greatly.  For the past two years, my friend and fellow artist Sarah Minkiewicz-Breuning, has hosted a mini-retreat at her house in Boise, ID.  She has a fully fleshed-out ceramics studio and this year, I finally got to complete the custom glazing on one of her beautiful slipcast ceramic sculptures, under her expert tutelage:

"Reflective" - bas-relief warmblood sculpted by Sarah M-B, painted in art glaze for base and 2 underglaze firings for horse prior to final high gloss clear glaze.  Completed June '09. 

With that, the introduction to my art background ends and a different direction begins.  If you have read all of this, I thank you.  Some people may find the lack of a single theme or medium in my artwork and this blog to be distracting, and I totally get that.  As time goes on and my skills improve and expand, I assume my focus will naturally narrow and my personal style will start to evolve.  At this point, I want to try different things and see what works and what doesn't, and this blog will be a perfect venue for sharing with folks who are maybe in a similar place in their artistic travels. 

Cheers,

Sonya