I spent hours of intently focused work on the asteroids, because I was terrified of them looking like floating potatoes. So they are detailed and textured to frankly a bit of a dumb extent.

Boris Vallejo suggested a green wash over the two generals in the back to help get a little more depth out of the piece. Green? Really? But I figured he knew what he was talking about, so I put in the green wash. It was alarming at first, but it only took a minute or two to see that he'd been totally right.

And FINALLY I get to the main faces. What to do with that big floating head had been a problem in the back of my mind since square one. I painted him in yellow ochre ultramarine blue at first, thinking I needed to keep his colors simple, and a little unreal. But it was garish, so I quickly went back in to knock the colors into a simplified and slightly unreal palette, but one that could hang out in back rather than screaming into the front.
Working on the hero's face, I finally discovered the drawing error I'd made. I'm using a reference photo for him, but in the photo the dude (a buddy of mine who I photographed for the purpose) has a beard and is at a slightly different angle, just to make things more challenging. I painted in the far side eye, took a step back, then rubbed it out. Then I painted it again, took a step back, rubbed it out. Then I painted it again, took a step back, rubbed it out. Then I went to the liquor store.
I came back with three bottles of wine and set them out for all to share. I was a lamebrain and didn't get any cups, but people improvised and surmounted that challenge. I wasn't the first to bring something to share. Mr. Mark Scheff had been generously offering people pours from his bottle of whiskey starting the day before. But even though I wasn't pioneering the idea, I was glad to have done it.
I finally painted the far eye. It's STILL in the wrong place. Don't worry, I'll come back and fix it later.

The next morning, I decide I'm following Julie Bell's approach in one aspect -- working from the furthest distance up to the closest objects, finishing (more or less) each area as I go. Before I do that, though, I lay a bit of a glaze over the whole piece to try to calm down the warring colors . . . and that dissolves and washes off 50% of the oil underpainting, leaving me with a sticky, half-dry rubber cement surface to work on. Had I the luxury of time, I'd have let it dry, sanded it a bit maybe, then gone on ahead.
But this wasn't a luxury week. I spent a day laying rather thick paint onto that rubber cement that would just grab the brush and stop it fast. But the work I did on the faces of the distant generals was actually pretty pleasing. And the barely-indicated textures and designs on the wall behind them. The architectural gunk up top started to worry me, and I wished I wasn't drawing so many freehand ellipses here, because I certainly wasn't nailing them.


"Firstborn," the story I'm illustrating for here, is a sci-fi story where commanders direct space battles by observing hologram representations of the battles in their command rooms. The hero is a rather unsuccessful young commander, 25 years junior to his brother (the big floating head), the greatest general in the empire. I also stuck the hero's dad and his mentor-general into the piece.
So let's start with the sketch I brought to the workshop. You've seen it before, but here it is for a reminder. In critiques it was decided that the individual elements were fairly strong, but it had too much dead space, and things needed to be pulled in tighter in the composition. Also, I went into this (as did lots of people) thinking I needed to leave tons of space up top, and some below, for hypothetical titles, etc. for this hypothetical book cover. That idea was scotched. Just do a good illo, don't worry about text/title stuff here.
There are actually three types of ships in the piece. The big command ship thingy I left alone, pretty much. One fighter I just chopped the wings to half their length, and the third is the complete do-over.

Had I had my studio handy, the required changes wouldn't have been a big deal, (yay photoshop!) but with my half-working laptop, not even a mouse, let alone a tablet, etc. etc. it was time to do things by hand! I resized elements in photoshop, printed them out on a friend's printer, and built a makeshift lightbox out of a sheet of glass from a paint-mixing table and somebody's lamp to redraw the piece at full size (16x24 ish).

It was a pretty awesome time, though. In some ways, it didn't quite meet my expectations, in other ways it exceeded them. I've gotta start saving up so I can go next year. I'm indebted to my buddy John F. for turning me on to the class, and for rooming with me and introducing me to all sorts of cool people. It meant I could jump right in to the experience rather than spend a day or two getting to know people and getting a feel for what's going on.
I've certainly got some new friends from the week (and new artists to admire -- and there's some overlap to those two groups). I've got a handful of hours left on my assignment piece, and I hope things really gel together at the end -- but I've got some doubts about that. It was certainly a challenge, though, and I tried my hand at a bunch of things I"ve never done before. In retrospect, though, perhaps a little less ambitious project would have been better. It would have been nice to free up a bit more time to watch the instructors work, and really finish, say, one figure and one ship rather than four figures and a dozen ships (even if most of the ships are tiny). But we'll see if I take my own advice next year. If I know me, I probably won't
I've got cool photos, but I didn't bring any interface to get them off my camera, so I couldn't post them even if I had the time. I will later, though.
Good night and good luck.
The dreams sort of kick in before I'm even asleep. I close my eyes and hyper-animated faces dance around under eyelids. Just in a little spot, it's kind of like having a nickelodeon in your brain (not the network, the slot machine that plays short silent movies).
Finished my drawing late yesterday, and mounted it directly to a board to begin painting it. It was such a relief to have the drawing done -- I had anxieties about spending the week drawing instead of painting. Got a tiny bit of underpainting glazed/scrubbed onto the board, but no actual rendering, since I didn't even get the drawing mounted until 11 PM or so. I seem to be kind of in the middle of the pack in terms of how far along in the process I am, but I still don't think I'll finish the piece this week. But who knows? Maybe I will.
All the individual bits of my piece (well, almost all) were deemed just fine, but everything was resized, moved around, tightened up. I really feel at a loss without my lightbox (and my scanner, tablet, and printer, to be honest).
I took apart a couple glass-topped paint-mixing cabinets to build a makeshift lightbox. It mostly works, but it's considerably smaller than my drawing is, so I've got to shuffle things around a lot to draw. So be it.
Honestly, it would have been better for me to do the fixes in photoshop only, rather than rough them in photoshop and redraw the whole thing. But it's too late now!
The common room of the dorm was filled with people up chatting, working on their assignment drawing, showing around portfolios, all that good stuff. It was tough to leave it, but I wanted to kick the week off with a good night's sleep. If stories from last year are any indication, it'll be the last good night sleep of the week.
I'm both excited and a bit intimidated -- which is dumb. What's there to be intimidated about? I'm here to learn stuff, and I'm pretty much guaranteed to do that. But still, falling asleep last night, that's how I felt. Just a little intimidated.
Here's my layout drawing for my assignment. It gets critiqued today, and we'll see how much needs to change:

What's driving me crazy right now is the stuff that's almost done, but I can't cross off my to-do list because I need this or that piece of information or approval to make them officially done.
I need my to-do list to shrink! It's psychologically important to me!
I've got a small mountain of projects, many of which need to be done before I leave for the illustration workshop on the 11th. But I'm pretty excited about all of them, so it's a pleasure and a challenge, not a drudging chore.
Gina's World stuff is going well, which is always a good feeling.
On top of that, I've had a story project floating in my head for almost a year. Just a thematic concept and some ideas about the three main characters. But now ideas about scenes and overall shape of the narrative are starting to come to me unasked. I think this means I need to start turning this into something real in earnest. Will it be a comic? A heavily-illustrated prose piece? I'm not sure. If it's a comic, it's going to have a mix of different artists on it. I've got my two faves in mind, but don't know who I'd use for the third. Or, certainly, whether the two I have in mind would be up for the project.
But top of the excitement list is currently the Illustration Master Class in Amherst. I've been shooting reference and drawing out layouts for it, and maybe most importantly shooting ideas back and forth amongst friends. As is my way, I'm setting up a pretty ambitious project (four characters, thirty spaceships, and some special effects I've never tried, all in oils). Will the final piece rock? Maybe not. But I'll certainly have some skills at the end of it I don't have now. Which is damn exciting.
No limitations! I never want my execution skills to hinder my ideas. I'd rather have ideas I can't quite pull off, and bust my butt trying like hell to pull them off best I can, than fetter my ideas to fit within my established, comfy skillset.

Buzzing with energy! (okay, some of it IS the caffeine. Time for some drawing and cup number three!)
What Hanna wants for her B-day:
Weasel Ball (battery-powered ball that rolls around randomly, has a long hairy thing with google-eyes tethered to it so it looks like a weasel rolling the ball around)
Fly-tech Dragonfly (a remote control plane gets on the list every year, this time it's a remote-control dragonfly)
Activity Books
Bakugan game
"Monsters Vs. Aliens"
A Nintendo DS
A Pokemon game for the DS
Whoppers
Remote control car
Art/Craft kits
YoYoBall
ArrowCopter (rubber-band launched plastic toy, shoot it up, and it comes back down like a helicopter)
Webkinz
1 - I'm breaking out the crowquill for the first time in years and that has the potential for disaster.
2 - Over the years I've had superhero pages critiqued by so many artists and editors that "it's gotta be perfect!" voice pops up anytime I start drawing spandex.
3 - I'm always more comfortable working as a story teller in the quiet scenes than the big loud flashy scenes.
4 - I wanted the art in this section (about 15 pages) to be a bit of an homage to some comics I loved as a kid (I couldn't find a way to pin that down without being a parody or a cheap copy so I pretty much dropped that idea -- the art here is just the way I draw normally with a bit more exaggeration to the figures and longer hatching).
But I'm halfway through pencilling/inking this scene and I'm really enjoying it. It's slow-going (for the reasons above, largely) but it's also surprisingly fun and satisfying. I think I have managed to tap into the giddy excitement superheroes gave me as a kid, after all. My hope is when you pick up the book and read the pages, the fun and excitement bit comes across but the slow-going is nowhere to be seen. So to the points above:
1- If I screw something up, I can redo it and patch the fix in in photoshop
2 - Can't please everybody anyway. The important thing about this scene is does it tell the story well and is it fun to read, not will it impress somebody.
3 - It's important to step out of your comfort zones -- it's the only way to make them bigger.
4 - Sometimes an homage can just be in the initial idea of doing a type of scene. No need to play it any larger than that.

* Gina's World has got a bit of "Secret Life of Walter Mitty" to it and there's a scene where Gina is a James Bond/Jackie Chan superspy, one where she's a ronin in the Warring States Period of Japan, and this bit where she's a superhero.

Cupcakes, new hair clippies, and her very own Mr. Tato Head. A good time was had by all.
A good friend of ours was in town this weekend visiting her daughter. We saw her Saturday, and the subject of Hattie's age came up. "She turns two on Monday," we said. At which point Hattie ran through the room chanting "Mine mine mine NO NO NO NO NO." Tish watched her go by, turned back to us and said, "she sure sounds two."
Here's a detail from a digital painting I'm working on:

But there's a satisfaction (and a portfolio, frankly) that you miss out on when this is all you're doing. I think that's why I'm really digging (and persevarating over, and going really slowly on) the Gina's World pages I'm doing. I even broke out the steel nibs for this scene (15 pages or so) and the last time I used nibs was . . . on "Vanishing Point" so it's been a couple-three years. I'm doing a couple pages at once, do the tech pen bits on both, the brushmarker bits on both, the brushwork on both, then the nib work on both, then the inevitable going back and carefully fiddling with each panel and every tool at once to polish it up.

I'd kinda forgotten how nibs can be so sweet when they're working well, and such hard work when the alchemy that makes the ink flow off the steel at the right rate isn't working for you. By the time I finish these pages, I'll probably be relieved to be done with nibs for awhile.
Yesterday I drew a face that looked like Brent Anderson (Astro City) had drawn it. Not that big of a surprise -- he and I value similar things in our work, and I've been compared to him before. But this afternoon I drew a superhero character that quite looks like it was drawn by Jim Lee. This took me back a bit, as I've never had any particular connection to his style. I was just looking for a shorthand in sketching my lighting, and found I'd accidentally recreated something characteristic of his rendering style.
I trust by the time it's a finished panel it'll look like one of my drawings rather than like one of anyone else's.
I'm lucky enough to have two friends step up and do this for me in the past day or two. John Forcucci, Darren Taylor, thank you both, sincerely.
For my paintings, I often need some props. I lugged a 75 pound boulder into my studio to paint some rocks in the background for "The Pump," got a collection of small glass bowls (which I later smashed in one very comprehensive accident) for "Air," and so on and so forth.
I've been gradually brewing up a piece that has a series of plastic birds amongst real birds. Toy plastic birds were much harder to find than I'd expected. I had a half-memory of a plastic bird I had as a child that was involved in the spark of the idea, but on closer examination of my brain, it turned out to be a pteradon.
I've finally put together a rather good collection of plastic birds, though. Not one of them is perfect, but I'll draw from them to build the birds I want. I'm currently fascinated by the difference between my bright new "birds in a tube" toys, and some old plastic birds I e-bayed.
The new ones have wings spread -- which is important to the project. But the old ones have a certain warmth and charm the new lacks.
This isn't an "everything new sucks" rant, don't worry. But the colors on the new are rather garish and chemical in contrast. I much prefer the feel of the older ones. I don't know, though, if the old ones looked just as terrible when they were new. It could well be the aging of the paint and the plastic, and the wear on the paint letting the putty color of the plastic show through that unifies them so nicely. But I like it.


Which doesn't necessarily mean I'll use the colors from the old birds in my project. Part of what makes the painting work (I hope I hope I hope) is the contrast between the real birds and the artificial ones, and perhaps that chemical garishness of the the new plastic birds will enhance the piece. I don't know yet, I'll have to work that out further along the process.
BTW, anyone want to loan me some real birds? Caged or taxidermied will work just fine. The ones in the tree in the backyard are lovely, but I need them to sit a little closer to me.
(I almost never use my telephoto lens -- it's fun!)
I haven't had time to paint lately. I'd been (internally) moping about it, and thinking about how when I finished this job, and that project, and got to this stage in that project, I'd be able to paint some more.
But yesterday I decided that wasn't acceptable. I haven't been painting digitally in forever (because I really prefer working with real-world materials) -- but it's a bit faster, and requires no set-up or clean-up. So I pulled out the tablet (and the This Week! character jams) and did this as a warm-up before diving into my work for the day.

A bit closer for the textures (I'm really looking forward to the day when every pic on the internet is at SUPER-HUGE resolution and you can easily and intuitively lean in to look closer at anything you want to):

