Inktober Day 12 – “whale”

It’s an unintentionally tail-less whale-ess. The prompt “whale” was assigned to today, and I’ve been hustling to get it done so I can catch up (this is my second post today). I love how I’ll picture something in my head, and then ask Google to provide me with a reference photo, and Google often obliges to a surprisingly accurate degree.

Here’s the photo reference I used:

I wasn’t trying to draw the exact photo, I was aiming for just the whale. I was thinking I’d put her in space, but then I’m just wanting to put everything in space because I seem to want to put stars around everything. Maybe it’s an artistic twee phase. I fought the impulse and went with a sunset instead. I could have done the photo and tried to put the whale’s reflection above her in the water, but I always have to weigh my skill against how long it would take me to practice and get to a reasonable ability to draw the thing, against how much time I have to finish the assignment.

I was focusing so intently on trying to get the proportions right that I realized – oops – I lost the tail off to the left of the page. Ah well! More practice.

The drops of pale silver in the water and sky is Arctic Fire by Daniel Smith, a glittery, translucent bit of magic that I like to try adding to things. I like it in the water but I biffed it a bit in the sky. No big. I’ve decided to like it.

I might need to get a convenience orange. I’m having a weirdly hard time blending a good orange. It shouldn’t be that hard. Translucent Pyrrol Orange is great but I can’t seem to lighten it to where I want. I also want a good coral. I love coral! Oh, you salmon pink of wonder and light, coral. I’ve tried to make it a few times, they were just so-so. It looks like I might need to go to the art store. GEE, THE THING I HATE MOST IN THE WORLD.

 

Inktober Day 10 – “flow”

This is a relaxing – although time-consuming – drawing. I used a calligraphy pen and my waterproof Carbon ink, and I just drew rough circles, then smaller circles, and finally stippling to fill in the gaps. It’s easy, requiring very little skill (save patience), and the pattern is remarkably beautiful.

There are lots of other things I could have jumped to from there to add depth make it look more realistic, but I didn’t have a lot of time yesterday so I stuck to the basics. I’m also not skilled at that other stuff! Which is fine, I’ll learn, but I didn’t want to experiment on this piece because it’s very time consuming to draw and if I screwed it up (e.g. I tried cross-hatching and didn’t like it), I didn’t want to start over again. I was thinking it’d be a good idea to make one of these and then scan it and copy it, so I can practice different techniques without re-rocking and re-stippling.

So to finish this one for today, I brushed on a bunch of water, and then three colors of Dr. Ph. Martin’s concentrated liquid watercolor. I was hoping it would look a bit like a stream, even without the depth, and I really do like how it turned out. I don’t look at it and see a lot of artistic skill, but it’s definitely relaxing to gaze upon, and I’m calling that a win.

I wasn’t sure if I liked these liquid watercolors at first, but now I love them – I think you just have to find the right places for them. Context is everything. I love how they look here. And so fun to work with! I was wishing my piece was bigger than postcard size so that I could just play with ink all afternoon.

But no, I’m off to an appointment, including a stop by PCC Market so that I can pick up my favorite gluten-free cookie. They’re fairly big, probably the size of my palm, and they’re $1 a cookie. I always get 6 of them, so I can eat two with tea, at night, and revel in my cookie meditation. And then I have 4 days of the week left to pine for the next time I get one (it’s a weekly appointment). Greg was with me last week, and he peered down at me, eyebrows raised, and said, “Six cookies? I thought you used to get five?”

“It’s six now. I have a system.”

He laughed. “Are you sure you need six of them?”

“I definitely need six. Besides, we’re moving, I won’t have access to these cookies anymore. You’re lucky I’m not getting 14 so I can have two every day.”

He shook his head. “We’re not moving for a few months, you can’t use that excuse yet.”

I stopped in the middle of the aisle, and pointed the cookie bag at him. “No man gets to determine the need factor in my cookie schedule,” I said.

He was smart, he yielded to my faultless logic.