Plot Hatching!

Scheming babies, they're everywhere

Beware the plotting babies! It's no coincidence that this sketch came to me just as my 15 month old has started to walk, loves sitting on adult chairs, even if she can't get onto them herself...and is busy, busy, busy. Baby sock in the silverware compartment of the dishwasher, baby sock flattening in the beginning pages of a novel from the library, duckling finger puppet nestled in my shoe. She's full of vim, vinegar and mysterious plans. Sometimes we can see the wheels turning; other times, just a blur of motion.

I drew this on Monday, in a peevish fit -- I would have been plotting, myself, had I more energy. As it was, I doodled, and then distracted myself from crabbiness*, by getting sucked into Photoshop world with texts and coloring layers. I'm still really clunky with the program, but am closer to the a-little-knowldege-is-a-dangerous-thing stage. But! After I pass that stage! Golden! ----ish. 14 karat? I'm enjoying it more, definitely.

Etsy listing for Plotting baby card here

*Something we should all follow babies and toddlers in doing! ...Or we may already do, without knowing. Wahhhhhhhhhhh~~ooohhowthatswings! Helpful at any age.

Boy vs. Monster: Boy evolution.

Disclaimer: from a few weeks old. But not expired! No freshness pack, no sell-by date!

Oh-so-thankfully, everything seems to be waking up. WEMU is playing old crackly songs with saucy lyrics (how big are the biscuits, how sweet the honey, whose jelly roll?), tiny birds are plashing about the pseudo swamp of my back yard, and Javier has been plotting out play rehearsals by pacing between bedroom, living room, kitchen; bedroom, living room, kitchen. I picked up my Cakeasaurus picture project again, after a long dormant period.

Have been carving one block, like so:

though now suddenly, with the nice weather, I no longer wish to carve in the basement...

And more, importantly to carrying it forward, I have been playing around with the look of my  little boy character. During the entire length of this project, I have waffled about him. And he's important, so how can I start carving any woodblocks, when he's up in the air? He's too young looking, or too old; or his neck is too twiddly and snappable, his moon eyes too cutesy. So many issues, you have no idea!

initially the middle guy was the ticket. But then again: no.

But I think I'm getting a bit closer.

He has undergone many iterations

 I still like the below version of him in bed, but so far he has not fit into the rest of the images

he's wide awake, when he shouldn't be. Like so many of us.   

Red-handed cake theft, with prior boy character

And now an updated sketch. Aside from a needed ear shift, I'm liking him. His hair is closer to that of Robert Smith's than most young children, but being a former Cure-head, I'm okay with that. (The skinny Staples cashier clerk: "Hey is that your drawing? He looks kind of Anime...") I was surprised to find that having his arms hanging down actually contributed better to a sense of shock then the prior pose of hands raised to partially shield his face.

Well! And so it is: time stops at the moment of discovery, there is a hush; and then a rush forward, as everything catches up.The Sunday, certainly, is rushing forward. The 8th annual FestiFools parade is happening in less than an hour in downtown Ann Arbor ~~

~~ And then Compatriot arrived, we went off to find a parade spot, and life rushed forward, as often happens... Off to work.

I Know, I *Know*~~

An indication of how drawing has been going this evening

 

 

 

 

Criticized by doodles.

This was before my new laptop didn't start until the third try, and only then after cogitating for 15 minutes. The Apple Specialist consulted with the Family Room and now I get to go in after work tomorrow and hope they can do a quick fix, or exchange this one for another...in which case I am told data transfer could take up to 48 hours again. Peeved. But maybe this won't be necessary. The day will start with a plumber coming at 7 AM; well, not starting, as I will have been working for two hours at that point.  From this Tuesday evening, Wednesday does not look to be fun-filled. Shore up on the fun now!...I guess I should at least return to sketching.  

A Wee Nip of a Post: Messy Frosting Trumps Orderly Lines, Bear Hat Wins Out.

A wee little post to start my year off right. Sketches and scrawlings for a larger project finally took over my dining room table again, after Christmas passed. Per usual, I spent more time frowning at the papers, walking deliberately past them to heat water for tea or glaring furtively in their general direction...but even so, I made a little bit of progress.

This evening, we have a close up of Cakeasaurus on the verge of snatching a cake.

Originally, it was just going to show a really nice slice of cake. 

You know, toothsome texture, luscious frosting. But then you know, he's really not compassionate. He wants the whole thing. So, better to have it untouched.

And then again, I do fancy a domed cake plate. And the hand is nicely ominous, non?

Pretty close to being ready to transfer onto a woodblock.

I liked the design on the left for the first day after I finished it. 

In all the months following, it has rubbed me the wrong way. I'd look at it, become annoyed, but never have a better treatment in mind. But suddenly this afternoon, I thought of a doodle from my to-do notebook. Whether the adult naysayer stays around remains to be seen, but I think the little girl in her animal hat (hastily scrawled of a small passer-by at the Rust Belt Market last month) holds the key to a better illustration...I was so convinced that we needed to see the child's face, being kept from a party. But somehow the refusal works better, seeing her from behind, with the woman facing us, refusing us entry. Still in-process, clearly, but it's such a good reminder that it's almost always that small shift in perspective which suddenly helps, especially when one had become convinced there was no good solution...

Here's to a year of growth and stimulation, enough joy to balance out the sorrows and the ability for all of us to be grateful and appreciative... 

Got elbows? Or perhaps a coin purse?

What does it say when you spend a couple hours of a Monday evening, only to conclude that you can't draw a character that you yourself have created? A sorry state of affairs. The table-facing surface of my right hand is covered in leaden smear. My dastardly eraser is more prone to sullying paper than to restoring it to a white(ish) surface. Let's skip the "progress" photo.

Instead, here's something cuter:

Isn't he great? A coin purse that wants to be a Muppet. The photo really doesn't do justice to his glittery emerald vinyl. Clearly the crafter must be a fellow Henson fan, which made me predisposed to like her. Amber( WoollyMammothDesign ), was selling her wares at Ypsi's Shadow Art Fair this past Saturday.

It was a fine time with a wonderful friend, a pint of Bavarian Bliss Hefeweizen, and loads of visual stimuli. Oh! Also scored a couple old nude drawings from the talented Helen Gotlib, who was wedged into a corner, but seeming to hold up pretty well. Shadow is always 12 hours long, which is a bit brutal on vendors, IMHO.

In any case, anyone who can successfully draw the human form is pretty amazing in my book. My woodblocks have cartoony attempts at people. After tons of redrawing, they strike me as relatively ok (in a highly stylized way) until after I have printed the designs and they are drying. At which point, various internal reactions begin to flow through my brain, in an unfortunate fashion, like so:

• "Hmm. If that person were real, her neck would snap under the weight of her cantaloupe head."
• "Really?? Is one arm....LONGER than the other?? Seriously?? Damn, it is. Damn." 
• Of course, my Mom is also happy to periodically offer reactions. Surveying a design:"Well. I mean, with you, it's more about the WORDS, more about the ideas, isn't it? So, I'm....okay that this arm...doesn't have an elbow. You can get away with it. It's your....style."

Well. I'm really not selling it, here, am I? But hey. At least I got style.