The Foundation of Art

Drawing has been the foundation which I build my art upon. Whether a landscape or a figure, it is the drawing I construct from. Understanding the human figure has brought me a level of confidence that carries me through all subjects. Cows in a field and horses in barns are enjoyable challenges, thanks to years of drawing the human figure. Experimenting with different styles of drawing keeps things fresh and keeps my mind sharp. Hours at different workshops and meeting & seeing other artists has opened my eyes to different ways of seeing subjects.

Summer mornings sketching people relaxing, fishing, throwing frisbees about, and stopping at worksites to sketch men standing about waiting for the boss to give them direction. Drawing from life is great skill-building and you see how people live. Lovers, old and young, sharing lunch under the oak trees and pretty girls pulling up skirts to deepen their tans while reading a romance novel.

Fifty years of drawing people in parks and at open workshops has brought me an interesting life. Many times people want to see what I am doing, and let me know things about themselves. Drawing cornstalks, a gentleman from Italy told me about the herbs he was growing in his garden plot. Spending the summer visiting his daughter and grandchildren, he could not find the herbs he needed for cooking, so his son-in-law arranged for a public garden plot. As he told me about life in Italy I sketched him. And while sketching people, I got to know people.

Summer Is Coming

Summer days and summer nights - all care free. Summer meant Dad's fan door would replace the full door to the attic. Dad had cut an old door nearly in half, replacing the top half with a huge fan. The first hot day of summer and dad would pull the full door off the hinges and the fan door would be installed. The front attic window was chained open, giving the air an escape route. When rain was near one of us kids would be sent up to secure the attic window shut. Always with an angry hornet struggling against the screen, giving us kids a reason to dread that simple chore. No one ever got stung - it was just the possibility…

Plugging in that fan was exciting, it sucked the air from every room in the house. First my parent's bedroom door - bam! Then my sister's room door . Bam, bam, bam! Curtains waving in the air, fresh air cooling the house down. It was exhilarating and meant summer had come.

Next came the front porch swings. They were fairly simple putting up. Getting them down from the garage loft was the real problem. Hornets, again, challenged us as to who owned the loft. Dad never got concerned about the hornets or spiders or even about dogs with angry smiles. Mom's backyard swing was the official summer-arriving finish line. Her swing was where she folded the wash and where my brothers folded the newspapers before delivering them. My job was pulling the red wagon loaded with the papers that they couldn't squeeze into their official carrier bags.

Summer had begun, and it was full of things to do.