So, I was brave today. After walking around my brand, spankin' new easel for half a day, I at last, jumped in, and put it together. I only forgot four parts-the rubber feet. Eh. Not so bad. I'll pop them on later today. I love this easel. The wood, the color, the quality. Yum!
A shot of my dos chickies, on THE EASEL. This piece is about 8x10, I don't think you can tell that in this shot. It's at that sort of ick spot right now...showing promise, but not making any promises to me that it's going to turn out.
I popped down to Dakota Art yesterday, on Roosevelt in Seattle, and picked up some charcoal sticks because my order from Dick Blick's hasn't arrived yet and I have the patience of a gnat.
I'm not liking the tortillon for blending the darkest of the dark. I left half of my art supplies in Albuquerque and am having to reorder some of my most used things. I'm waiting for the arrival of some stiff blending brushes so I can more easily tame those darkest of black lines.
And of course, working on the feathers with more intense value ranges makes the poor little calm heads just receed away into the woodwork. Artwork is like life. You never know if it's going to turn out, but if you don't press on, you'll never know how good it might be. It's like when you're trying to spring clean and you've gutted every single closet and cabinet and your livingroom looks like a bomb went off....for about 6 hours as you work like a dog to get it back into order. For 5 1/2 hours it looks like it's never, ever going to come around and that maybe you should just throw it ALL in the trash and move-start over fresh. Art is like that. It's that last 30 minutes when it starts coming together. Or not. Talk about faith. Artists know about having faith in something you cannot see!