Killing my blog softly
I can't draw anymore. well I mean yesterday was the first time I picked up a pencil in ever, and though I love how my brain explained dimensions and surfaces, my hand had a rough time comprehending it, scribble scribble. not upsetting, I enjoyed the 2 dimensional disproportional scratch marks I made of a horses ass. Talked to mom. chat chat scribble scribble, told her what I was doing. one ear to phone to chin. scribble scribble. Oh how wonderful! on occasion my mom and I used to draw together, we'd gone to the zoo once or twice, or sketch the sleeping dog, she taught me how to draw human lips. She used to work for Gibson Greetings in the 60's then worked from home off and on in 70's and 80's. This back when a graphic designer was a commercial artist. tracing paper, mechanical pencils, Gwash and All My Children on the tee-vee down stairs. Horses were the first thing I ever learned to draw. My mom bough me the Walter Foster, How to Draw Horses book and suggested I start by copying the images. I don't know how old I was, third grade??? My Big Chief not book was filled with Walter's mares.