Tag: Drawing

I minored in Anthropology.  My favorite hominine has always been Paranthropus boisei. Well, they used to be an Australopithecine, but somebody needed to contend a thesis or something, and now they’re Paranthropuses. 

Who wouldn’t love this character?  The sagittal crest? The ridiculously huge jaw? The way the orbits always give the impression of anxiety, as if Mr. Boisei is wondering if somebody else ate all the nuts and seeds…

I find myself drawing unfamiliar faces recently, and it’s an odd feeling. I have difficulty reducing a portrait to shades and shapes.  I need to find stories in there, something to guide my hand. This is causenotsymptom’s grandmother, who is gone now.  I felt really torn in the initial stages because I saw so much sadness in her eyes. How do you distill those hints of narrative written in someone’s face and put them on paper? This kind of thing moves me in ways I find hard to explain.

I need yet another new sketchbook.  I wish I was more precious about these drawings but I’m not. I pile them up in a cardboard box which is now overflowing on my basement floor. The same goes for most of my art, really.  I’ve got a stack of large paintings all taped together which will probably end up in a dumpster at some point.

But a new sketchbook always carries with it the scent of possibility. One cracks it open and it’s clean and white and promising.