Puzzle Pieces

When the pencil is moving, thoughts are happening. Art is constructed on paper and later embellished elsewhere. After all, it's the aesthetically boring frame that holds a house up, not the beautiful exterior.

I actually believe that sketches are random clues into oneself. Small pieces that, from a distance, combine to reflect something about the artist. I don't know what the following images reflect about me exaclty, but they definitely contain motifs that I have dabbled in consistently for many years. I think some of them were inspired by obvious sources.






This is the stuff, friends. I am a huge fan of sketch/preliminary art; anything that has 'bones' you can see. For me, that has always been where the magic happens. After all the early decisions are made, the rest is just execution. The irony of this is that sketches are the first steps of what usually is a long journey toward a finished piece of artwork. By the time the final piece is 'complete' the raw spirit of the sketch is long forgotten. Rough drawings contain real life; once you pass the sketching phase it's just a constant attempt to preserve that life.

My favorite sketches come back to me from nowhere. I have kept good sketchbooks at times in my life but now is not one of them. For the last year or so, I have drawn mainly on loose pages. I think it's good because it makes everything less precious. However, it is also very, very bad because the odds are not in favor of me every drawing inspiration from the little bits of magic.

I recently found a whole stack of such pages. I was elated! It's like finding a journal I never remembered writing. I don't know what the drawings are 'about' but there seems to be a strong narrative to some of them. These drawings were drawn at the office during various different discussions. All this time I have wondered where my sketching alter ego has been and it turns out he was tied up in meetings.

It Takes A Village

I have found lately that the best subject matter for my art is people. Specifically, though, I am happy to find that I am most inspired by the scenes on the street that borders my neighborhood. I live near downtown and drive on 10th St. nearly every day. The things I see in my neighborhood affect me in several ways. This area would often pass for the inner city. However, in Indianapolis (and other cities I'm sure) there are strange places where it seems that the city collides with the suburbs. This is certainly one of those places.

The house in which I live and most of the homes in my neighborhood are well maintained and appear to be very inviting. There always seems to be plenty of family and community activity. This is a little bit new to me having spent many periods of my life in apartments. What is a little more familiar to me is what is see on the streets that border the neighborhood: people everywhere, walking to the store, waiting for the bus, sitting on their stoops or in front of a dilapidated storefront, etc. Yesterday I saw this guy:


I relish these moments. This guy was pacing in front of one of the aforementioned storefronts, wearing only a pair of unflattering sweatpants (a little underdressed for October) and playing a recorder. Yes, the instrument used to introduce children in thousands of elementary school music classes to the frustrations of learning to play Mary Had A Little Lamb, is this dude's instrument of choice. Naturally, the resulting sounds were horrid; reinforcing my theory that a recorder is used as a 'worst case scenario' teaching tool: if you can bear to listen to a song played through this big pipe, your experience with music will inevitably get better.

Several posts ago, I posted a photo of baby Isaac Pitman in front of a yellow illustration I did called "Indianapolis Street." That piece was also inspired by what I have seen around my neighborhood. I grew up in apartments, many of which were in low-income areas. When you live in this environment, lots of things are communal. Everyone uses the same porches, hallways, street corners and open spaces. Also, the community is more intertwined for this reason. It was not uncommon for me to come home and find that my friends were waiting for me or that a group of friendly strangers was using my furniture. Lately, I recall that way of life often as I drive home or walk to the convenience or liquor stores. Looking back, I am much more perceptive of the way others interact with art; like this guy with the recorder. This is him in the act of creating...

Drawing for drawing's sake

As my commitments dwindle (which always happens near the end of summer), I find myself with a small surplus of 'free time'. This has allowed me to get back to drawing as an excercise. This usuallly consists of several pages filled with miscellany of all sorts. Some characters, some simple doodles of nothing, and lots of writing. Eventually, I stumble onto something that could stand alone. This little guy seemed pretty funny at the time.


These sketches hardly ever become anything more than random thoughts, the lucky ones end up being inspiration for something else. I find that it helps me to have a lot of sketches laying around because over time, their meanings change which allows me to see them differently. The silly drawings are important not because they are strong art, but because they can always lead me to something new.


Of course, sometimes I do start with the end in mind. I have embarked on a series of pieces (undetermined number in the series) that feature my artwork as a dominant element of the environment. These pieces have to have human characters in casual poses in order to work.


I drew this guy to have when it's time to finish the third piece.

I make real art too!

Typically, I contribute to different phases of short animations. They begin with a script, then are storyboarded, then the full color, moveable art is created, audio is attained, and then finally it is animated. There are other smaller steps as well that are involved in the process. I have done all of these tasks to some degree except animation. It’s all web-based, so when we finish, the animation goes to a developer to deliver via the Internet. All of this, for me, amounts to hours of sitting at a computer. It has become very rare for my company to use anything hand-made.

On occasion, however, I get to put a real pencil to real paper. I drew this in pencil first and transferred it in ink using a light table.



This is what it's all about. I believe that one can only be so close to his or her art without actually touching it or the surface on which it lives. I spent what felt like my entire childhood
drawing pictures. I still remember the first time I noticed the bump on my middle finger that would remain a permanent callus from the pencil rubbing into my skin. Anyway, I think this is a pretty cool drawing.