Live Model Figure Drawings

Fall 2012
Hard prisma oil pastels, toned paper, and white charcoal
My first attempt at figure drawing with a live model.
These are all figure drawings done at a studio near my house. It's not like a class with instruction or anything, you just pay a $5 student fee and you can come in and draw the models. 

No. 26

Winter 2012
Hard prisma oil pastels and white charcoal
This is a still life of my living room chair.
I just got this new toned paper and I love using prisma pastilles and white charcoal on it.

Etching Purple

Spring 2013
Dry point Etching
This is my first attempt at any kind of printmaking. 

The Art of Painting

Spring 2012
Oil Paint
I had recently learned a drawing technique in class called color-banding, which is done in colored pencil. I wanted to experiment and see how the technique would translate to paint, which is why the image is incredibly unproportional. So I guess this is just a study of color.

The Art of Painting

Close your eyes

And think about something you love.

I don’t know you very well, but I might be able to guess

Your sisters, your dog or horses, maybe hunting, or Africa, maybe even your own backyard

A tree house that you used to play in as a kid, or maybe an old board game that lives under your bed. And even though you never won a single game, it was still your favorite.

Let the memories and passion fill you, painting your toe nails and swirling your hair.

Keep your eyes closed, think about something you love

. . . And paint

“To draw, you must close your eyes and sing” ~Pablo Picasso

No. 1

Summer 2012
Oil paint
This was my first attempt at oil paint (hence the fruit).
I worked with texture some in the background of this still life piece. 

Victim

Winter 2011
Acrylic Paint
In this piece I worked with color and composition to make the it as dramatic as possible to reflect the emotions of the situation. 

My Lady's Dresser

Summer 2011
Acrylic Paint
This is a still life painting.

To Preserver

Spring 2011
Acrylic Paint
In this piece I experimented with my palate knife and a printmaking brayer to create the harsh lines that reflect the constant stress and frustration of a dancer. 

Gone Fishing

Summer 2012
Oil Paint
This is my 3rd attempt at oil painting. This is a landscape painting from life. I played around with my pallet knife a
lot more in an attempt to make the painting more impressionistic.

Gone Fishing

I work at a diner on Maple Street.

I am waitress, cook, and cashier.

I open, close, and work everyday of every year.

For twelve years I have spent my life on Maple Street.

But today I took out my pen,

Scribbled on a sheet of paper from my waiter’s notebook

Stuck it on the door with a bit of duck tape

And then I grabbed my hat and left.

No. 2

Summer 2012
Oil Paint
This is my 2nd attempt at oil paint. Although it is still painted from a picture, it was really just more of an exercise to get used to using oils.

Miscellaneous Drawer

Spring 2012
Colored Pencil
This is a still life of a sewing desk drawer hung up on the wall. It is a study of color and design composition. 

Waking Madison

Summer 2010
Acrylic paint
This piece is an abstract painting experimenting with pallet knives and a variety of large brushes. I worked with the concepts of color and light to convey my idea.

Summer 2010
This is a close up of the piece above.

EF6

Fall 2011

Charcoal

This was drawn from a collage of various still life sketches ranging from 5 seconds to 2 minutes. 

Winter 2011
Charcoal
This piece was a square 3 inch section of the piece above blown up

A Recipe for Desire:

In the day that’s done but not yet passed

Reach to see what appears with no shadow.

Forget the dreams and search the soul

For what lingers between the lines.

Look past the night to darker thoughts            

That cling to woeful lashes.

Live in the nightmare that consumes the mind

And brings thrill to every action.

Before the light of day brings back the shadows,

Faded, by moon’s protective eye.

Finding Shadow

Fall 2010
Graphite Pencil
I started this piece just after my two dogs died. I worked with the negative space of the flower petals to insinuate a ghost image.  The idea is that a person is wondering along in a wood and comes across this little box beneath a tree and thinks of the story behind it. 

Crayons to Crayons

Spring 2011
Mixed Media: Crayola crayon, colored pencil, hard Prisma oil pastel
This piece is about the transition from childhood to adulthood in the form of art. Drawing with crayons matures into drawing crayons 

Crayons to Crayons

The woman took a deep breath and peaked around the corner. The sight stunned her, just as it did every time she passed by that room. Her eyes filled with tears, and she knew it was her fault.

Growing up the boy had not questioned his mother or their way of life. He knew that she was working hard, and being a single mother had never been easy for her. He ignored what the kids at school said about his clothes and their house. He knew that telling his mother would only hurt her more.

Two more steps into the room, and another choked breath. She ran her hand across his bed, and hugged the pillow infused with dust mites. Everything lay preserved under a fine layer of dust; untouched for the past three years. She began to thumb through his drawers, taking out old clothing and toy spaceships. She felt something cool against her skin, and removed a metal box from underneath a stack of clothes from his elementary years. She opened it carefully and had to close her eyes as the tears streamed down her face.  

The little boy was constantly praised by his teachers. He had a true talent for art that no other student in his class could compare with. He drew and drew. Every paper his hands touched was covered with elaborate doodles. Every project was beaming with color and creativity. But as the boy began high school, his mother was still struggling, to provide for them. So, he decided to get a job. As his free time dwindled, his art was put aside, a forgotten past time of his childhood. Senior year came along, and he knew his future. He really had no other choice; his family could never afford a college tuition. He didn’t talk about his decision with his mother. One day he just told her his decision. She didn’t reply. She wanted more than anything for him to go to college. But she would pay a price for that dream. She knew she didn’t have a better option for him, and so she let him go. While on the plane, he thought about what college he might have gone to. What would he have become if he had not signed up for this harsh life style he was headed for? And he knew he would have become an artist.

She removed the pages one by one holding them at arms length as to not spatter them with her tears.  There were pictures from his toddler years drawn with crayon. There were projects that sported elaborate paper snowflakes and marker and glitter glue. These were from his days in elementary school. Atop that there were drawings and doodles done with pencils, shaded by an expert. They must have been from middle school. Many of them were on the back of tests and in the margins of notes. At the very top of the pile, pressed down by the lid of the tin box, was a drawing of crayons. She didn’t know when he had drawn this, maybe during an art class in middle school, maybe in high school before he got the job with the lawn company. If only her monthly paycheck could have supported them both. If only he didn’t have to leave her for a foreign country. He would still be drawing. She kissed the picture of the crayons and placed it back in the box.

Three years ago a boy died. He was 18. He had joined the military knowing it was his only option. His mother walked into his room today. It was the first time since her son’s death.

Gianna

Fall 2010
This piece his colored pencil and ink.

This piece reflects the decisions made and how they effect the way
 your life is lived. I was faced with the choice of practicing art or
music and although I chose to follow my passion of art, music
will always be a part of me.

Speak

Think of place where people see you.

You are not invisible,

You just don’t compare.

You whisper and speak,

They speak but do not share.

You hear nothing in their words.

When you dare to say,

Brows are raised and bothered eyes do stare.

But no one remembers why it is you care. 

Human

Spring 2013
Mixed Media: Paint, Charcoal, Paper bags
This piece is meant to reflect the constant destruction of humans by other humans and the souls who are set free. Although the idea was meant to cover a broad range emotional situations, it was inspired by September 11, 2001. I used the paper bags to explain the debris left behind.
This pieces was particularly difficult because the bags make the image 3-D. I designed the piece so that only when looking at it's center on at eye level can you truly see the entire image. If you were to look at the piece from any other angle, the faces would look distorted.




Today. Tragedy remembered, lives lost, families destroyed.
Think of a boy who today, will not be hugged by his parents. Think of a girl who today, remembers she was not an only child. Think of parents who today, will wonder what their baby would have looked like.
Be there for those who need comfort from the people who can no longer give it.
-9/11/2001