Some completely unremarkable sketches with new classmates on top of a big rock overlooking the Pond in Central Park. The woman in the yellow hat is Elizabeth Rodriguez from Orange Is the New Black apparently, and she was very nice. The bros with the “Ballslack” shirts were a wrestling team from Montreal. They’re in town for a competition and are going up against the Russians tomorrow. Give them hell, Ballslack.
One of the wrestlers asked us if we were all artists, and we said yes. His English was very good, but then he asked if we went to “draw school.”
And we said yes. Yes, we go to Draw School.
"In 1979, Robert Weaver, the undisputed pioneer of contemporary illustration, was asked if illustration was art. He replied, ‘No. It is only a profession whose best practitioners may one day be remembered as artists. The state of the art of illustration might be compared to a third-world country; it has not yet gained control of its technology. Editors and design consultants, not artists, shape the magazine. For a work to be judged as art there must be an artist in full command of his medium. Only when he has pushed it as far as it can go can he be tested fairly by the same critical standards applied to other artists.’
Thirty-five years later, illustrators have gained more control over their medium, as a result of technology. Editors and design consultants continue to dominate the magazines, but with the advent of self-publishing and the Internet, the illustrator now has the opportunity to take full command of his medium.
Storytelling, finally in the hands of the illustrator, can now be judged as an art form.”
"We Tell Stories" 30th Anniversary of the MFA Illustration as Visual Essay program. 1984-2014.
Sketches from Washington Square Park and the Met. I really love the woman-eating-pizza drawing, because she’s eating pizza.
So one of the things that I’m always saying to people on this blog is to write, write, and write some more. Getting thoughts organized and down on paper helps you articulate and understand your own practice, and it also preserves those thoughts for you to refer back to later. I don’t offer a lot of writing specifics because I think everyone has their own way of approaching things, but here’s one format that I’ve picked up:
Pretty rough drawing day today, so out comes the photoshop.
Yesterday, I got a haircut. I think being a barber in Brooklyn is more like a lifestyle than an actual occupation. Like, this was the first place I’ve ever been to where I could drink something while getting my hair cut. It was the first thing that popped up on Google maps, and I was getting desperate.
Anyway, my barber and I made a little bit of small talk about how I had just moved up, and eventually we talked about how I needed to get to Delaware next month for a wedding. He recommended the Chinatown bus that runs to Philadelphia at break neck speeds for $10. His caveats were that it was kind of janky, might possibly be mafia-owned, and that there were usually lots of older Chinese on board.
He went on to complain about how they’re loud, they don’t have any concept of personal space, and none of them speak English because they all live in Chinatown and “have no need to assimilate.” And I was sitting there drinking my stupid drink while he was clipping away and I thought, screw you dude, you’re a 6 foot tall bearded white guy whose only concept of “assimilation” was moving from Ohio to Williamsburg. Whose main issue with moving was adjusting to not having a yard. What could you possibly know about anything?
The haircut was OK. As he was holding up a mirror to let me see the back of my head, he told me that adjusting to New York might take a little bit, but that in the process I’ll learn a lot about myself.
He got that part right.