Sunday, December 13, 2015

The Stuff of Life

Life is made up of so much stuff! That’s what was running through my mind as I dealt with some of the contents of my deal-with-it box. I never feel like I have it all together. There’s always something that’s being neglected or mishandled, stuff I’ve messed up, and stuff I’ve never even tried because I feel overwhelmed and scared. I’ve run extreme ideas through my head about how I could simplify my life in pursuit of inner peace: give away all my money, strip the chaotic jumble of colorful artwork and decoration off my walls, get rid of at least half my clutter of stuff.
       But that’s not how you find peace.
       Why do we worry and stress about stuff? I wondered as I walked through the woods with the dog. Is every moment of worry a moment of not fully trusting God?
       This familiar verse from Philippians 4 seems to say so:
       Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God; and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.
       If I don’t trust Him when I’m surrounded by clutter and overwhelmed by a thousand tasks, I won’t trust Him in a spartan room alone on a desert island, either.
       Yes, there may be some things I could change in order to live more effectively, but those changes will never really effect my heart. The heart is where Christ must rule, and His peace must moderate all the arguments going on inside me.
       Surrender comes before peace.
       There is a huge difference between surrender and fleeing. Fleeing is turning away. Surrender is turning toward. Many of my own attempts to organize my life just turn into running away from what I don’t want to take responsibility for. But surrender is lifting my hands, admitting I can’t do it, owning my mistakes, and saying, “Lord, I’m done.”

       And that’s where the peace is at.

Sunday, November 22, 2015

Discover Drawing Class 2015

Me and some kids from the art class
Here's some of the work that came out of the seven weeks of intensive drawing classes I taught to kids grades 1-6 at Ant Farm this fall. I was delighted to see their unique talents, and I'll let the pictures do most of the talking.

We created this 2 x 3 ft rendition of the Mona Lisa by having the kids draw one little portion at a time without seeing what it was a part of. It helped them focus on drawing what they really saw, rather than what they thought should be there.

Before Instruction and After Instruction "My Hand" drawings.
Charlie B. Age 9

Eileen B. Age 7

Willa G. Age 12

The kids practiced drawing negative spaces, the "everything else" in a picture, by drawing the shapes around the chair first.
L to R: Charlie B. Age 9; Reese B. Age 9; Willa G. Age 12
The kids learned about light and shadow by drawing an orange.
Top Row, L to R: Lindsay W. Age 11; Carson N. Age 10; Liam J. Age 7
Bottom Row, L to R: Logan N. Age 12; Reese B. Age 9; Silas G. Age 10

At the very beginning of the classes, the kids drew a self-portrait without instruction, and at the final class they drew another.
Brandon N. Age 8

Eileen B. Age 7

Jonah A. Age 6

Logan N. Age 12

Willa G. Age 12



Sunday, November 8, 2015

Continuous Line Drawing Challenge

Sooooo…I discovered this fun drawing exercise where you attempt to capture an image with one continuous, never-lifting-your-pen line, and decided I wanted to try it as a 30-day challenge: thirty drawings in thirty days.

Eight months later…

I fudged on this challenge in just about every way imaginable, from accidentally lifting my pen and putting it back as close as possible to the same place, to doing the last fifteen drawings all in one evening, because I just wanted to be done with it. The subjects are all things you see in my room—including me. So, here are the results, good, bad, ugly, and all.

1: Porcelain Figurine. 2: Snail Shell. 3: Wall Decoration.

4: Ceramic Dragon (my personal favorite)
5: Toy Frog. 6: Self-Portrait (I don't want to talk about it...)

7: My Hand. 8: Stapler.

9: Bookmark. 10: Oil Brushes.

11: Kisses (second favorite). 12: Figurine. 13: Shoes.

14: Tissue Box. 15: Dog Figurine.

16: Figurine's Head. 17: My Chair. 18: My Hand Again.

19: My Glasses. 20: Caterpillar Toy.

I got fascinated by trying to draw my slowly-emptying glass of water. 21: "Half Full". 22: "Slightly Less Half Full". 23: Ladybug Magnet. 24: Decoration.

25: "Still Thirsty". 26: Horse Silhouette (harder than it looks). 27: My Journal.

And by now I was getting tired of black pens. 28: Seagull Figurine. 29: Bronze Vase. 30: "Satisfied".
 
Now, I really want to color these.


And maybe eight years later…

Sunday, October 25, 2015

Breathing Spaces

In writing, we need commas to give us space to breathe. They aren’t an end-of-the-line mark like a period. They’re just a moment to refresh and reevaluate before continuing forward.

In life, we need breathing spaces too. Just as in a busier sentence, where more punctuation is necessary, so in a busier life more breathing spaces are needed to keep the flow of traffic on course.

They are not moments of radical change. They are not dramatic. They are not characterized by fireworks and floods of tears.

They are the whispered prayer, only a breath long. They are an elaborate doodle among the meeting notes. They are coffee and a savored chapter of C.S. Lewis. They are the choice to watch the sunset for a few minutes and marvel at the One who painted it. They are the stillness when you know that He is God.

Breathing spaces bring clarity to life as commas direct the flow of words into purposeful thoughts. They are a moment to remember who made you and what that means, then move forward.

Sunday, October 11, 2015

On The Way (Short Fiction)

This short story started as a writing prompt: a photo of a family gathered around a map.


Maddie sighed and leaned back against the too-firm headrest. Her husband Ray clenched the wheel, glaring down the road. In the backseat, their three sons snapped, whined, and shoved one another, mirroring the tension they felt from Mom and Dad.
            “Look at that!” growled Ray, jerking a nod toward a passing sign. “Pine Ridge Road. I told you that idiot at the gas station didn’t know anything. According to him, we wouldn’t have hit that for miles.”
            “Maybe you just didn’t understand him,” Maddie said in a low voice. “You already said the map must be wrong.” The bite of sarcasm tinged her words.
            “The name of that road back there was different.”
            “Or it was a different road.”
            Ray’s knuckles turned white. “Alright, that’s it!”
            The bickering in the backseat stopped instantly, replaced by worried silence.
            Maddie cringed. Oh, God, this was supposed to be our great vacation, our healing time as a family. It’s just making it worse. We can’t even find the campground.
            Ray pulled the car over to the side of the road. He turned a weary, dark-eyed look on his family. “Okay, we’re going to get some fresh air.”
            He stepped out and slammed the door. Maddie and the boys slowly followed. Peter and James, the younger two, immediately ran to the guardrail and looked out over the forest vista. The eldest, Matthew, leaned against the car.
            Ray and Maddie stared at one another for a long moment. “Alright, get out the map,” he grumbled. “We’ll try one more time to figure out where this place is, and if it doesn’t work—we’re turning back.”
            Peter gave a yelp of dismay.
            “Quiet,” Ray warned.
            “Be gentler!” Maddie snapped.
            “Just get the map.”
            They huddled around the sheet of paper, fingers tracing the ink lines, the air between them thick with anxiety. Maddie was aware of each member of her family. Peter swallowing back sobs. James rubbing his eyes while his lip quivered. Matthew glaring. Anger and frustration coiling in Ray—a spring winding tight, ready to explode.
            Maddie was holding back tears. Her mind whirled with all the things she wanted to pour out on her husband—how he was crushing the boys’ spirits, how he was setting such a horrible example, how he didn’t listen to her or anyone…
            Maddie turned away from the map. With a mumbled excuse, she left her husband and sons to pore over it—his voice sharp, theirs pleading—and walked over to the guardrail.
            God, we’re so lost, she prayed. I can’t do this. Please, show us the way to go.
            “Maddie,” said Ray in a brusque tone, “let’s get moving.” She turned back and he waved the map. “We’ve been reading it backwards, or something. Idiot map-makers.”
            She saw the weary expectation in his glance. He was waiting for her to chastise him, as she always did. But this time, Maddie waited, and listened to a quiet voice inside.
            “I suppose you want to check the route?” Ray grumbled, fingers crinkling the edges of the map.
            The quiet voice spoke, and Maddie followed its lead. “No, that’s alright.” What the voice said next was hard. But in a few moments of inner debate, she realized it couldn’t be worse than the exhausting tension. She took a deep breath and met Ray’s eyes. “I trust you.”
            He was still for a moment, and then averted his gaze. “Okay.”
            They got in and drove.
            Ray muttered to himself about stupid roads and maps and people, but Maddie kept silent, and prayed. At every turn, she prayed. Ray’s muttering fizzled out into sighs.
            “Hmph,” he grunted suddenly, “nice trees here.”
            Then Peter gave an excited cry. “Mommy, Daddy, look!”

            A huge wooden sign ahead welcomed them to Peace River Campground.

Sunday, September 27, 2015

What I'm Up To

So, since I haven't come up with a soul-stirring, earth-shaking blog post today, I'll show what else I've been doing:

I coached a classroom of kids ranging from six to twelve years old to draw, little piece by little piece...

...a big Mona Lisa.

As you can see, we're half-way there. Come to the Ant Farm Indoor Learning Center in Sandy on October 2 to enjoy the First Friday festivities and see the completed picture!

Yes, for any of you who might be interested, I'm still at work revising Tales of Rhohin: The Mountain-Lands. To borrow a simile from another writer, it's like plowing uphill. Every inch gained is a victory.

I've begun drawing the pencils for the comic book Americat: The Desolation of Smog (pun intended) by my dad, R. Eugene Pearson.


I've been enjoying the fall foliage. Something about orange and green...


And--moment of confession--I've been watching far too much Doctor Who. Though, in the show's defense, the pure wacky fantasy of it does seem to give me a fresh shot of creative juice.

Sunday, September 13, 2015

Backstage: Americat Comics

After about the fiftieth time someone tries to tell me how to do something, I finally ask, “Can you just let me watch you do it?”
      One of the most effective modes of instruction I’ve found is when someone describes the process and tools they use. It’s a little scary to be vulnerable and expose what goes on behind the scenes, but if I can encourage, inspire—or at least amuse—other artists, it’s worth it. So, learn from my methods or laugh at them, and please leave comments about what you liked and what I could do better.

     Today’s featured project is the Americat comics, written by my dad, R. Eugene Pearson. The basic plot is that a skinny alley cat called Al E. Cat consumes cod liver oil and is transformed into Americat: a red, white, and blue defender of freedom and free enterprise, who battles feline crooks and corruption everywhere. The humor revolves around puns and parodies, and the art style is supposed to be simple and slapdash. In keeping with the need for this project to be turned out quickly and conveniently, I use some materials I wouldn’t otherwise recommend, but I’ll cover those things as I come to them.


A sampling of my tools:
*HP laptop equipped with Microsoft Word 2010, and an HP Deskjet scanner/printer
*Porta-Trace 10” x 12” lightbox (frustratingly small for some projects, but it fits well in my little workspace)
*Sakura-Pigma Micron pens
*Koh-I-Noor-Hardtmuth woodless color pencils (I’m in love with woodless pencils. They rarely break, sharpen with ease, and lay down rich color.)
*Artist’s Loft watercolor dual-tip markers (set of 24—I had to get some greys from my Pro Art set of 100)
*Artist’s Loft drawing pad (12” x 9”, medium tooth, 70 lb)
*Standard 2B pencils
*Kneaded and plastic erasers
*Paper towels and plenty of scratch paper

This is actually a facsimile, since I threw the original away!
Step 1: Thumbnails
Thumbnails are beginning sketches for a comic. Here, I’m just figuring out where the basic page elements—panels, speech and narration bubbles, and the main objects—are located.  I draw the Americat pages small, half the size of the drawing paper, so I do two on each sheet.


Step 2: Template
It’s important to establish the template for a comic before you begin drawing it. The template includes all the elements of size, shape, style, and, if you’re using it, color. Basically, you lay down rules for yourself, and stick with them. It starts with knowing how you intend to publish your work.
     I’m going to publish Americat as a Kindle e-book, and I know from experience that pictures tend to show up very small on the Kindle screen, so I limit the panels on each page, averaging two, and never exceeding four. Since the Kindle will likely show wide margins of white space around the page, I’m keeping everything contained in panels, never breaking the fourth wall (having something pop out of the borders of a panel), and not using two-page spreads, since the pages will be viewed consecutively on the Kindle screen.
     Some other rules for the Americat template include:
    *Page content is always within 4 3/8” x 7 1/2” limits (determined by the size of the paper and the scanner/printer I’m working with)
    *The font for all text is Comic Sans—9 pt for narration bubbles, and 9.5 pt for speech bubbles unless extra emphasis is needed.
    *The color scheme for the characters comes completely from the 24-color marker set, except for some added greys.
    *All the cats have three-“fingered” paws, no thumbs


Step 3: Pencils
Using my trusty 2B (the only wood-encased pencil I’m going to keep buying), I’ll work out the drawings at full size on scratch paper, bringing in all the details. I rough in the text so my dad can review it and I can keep track of what goes in each bubble. I can be as messy as I want with the pencils, because…


Step 4: Inks
…I just use my lightbox to trace the drawings onto a fresh piece of “nice” paper with ink pens. The advantages of this method include the freedom of the pencil drawing, the cleanliness of the inked-in drawing, and the “insurance” of having the unharmed pencil drawing if something goes terribly wrong with the ink. Disadvantages: Sometimes things like subtle facial expressions are lost in the transfer, and you have to work in a dark room with the bright light of the box, which can bother your eyes after a while.
    Tidbit: I use Sharpies for the bold black borders of the panels.


Step 5: Bubbles
I figured out very quickly I didn’t want to hand-letter this comic, regardless of the quirky charm of that style. I also didn’t want to slap bubbles onto the finished pages, potentially covering parts of the drawings and wasting color. The answer to the dilemma came when I discovered that, if I cut my drawing paper down to the 8 1/2” x 11” size my scanner/printer takes, I could run it right through the printer. So, I scan the inks into my computer, and add the bubbles with Microsoft Office. A note: I insert the narration bubbles, but I pre-draw the speech bubbles so they have unique character and fit correctly on the page, then add words via transparent bubbles.  Then I print! Occasionally, I get the sizes a bit off, but overall this method is fun.
     A further tidbit: I scan the pages in on the "Black and White" setting, which removes uneven tones, smudges, and any Wite Out I might have used.
     A big disclaimer: my scanner/printer is nothing fancy, and I’m certainly not using archival ink. I don’t recommend this method for a project meant to last a long time. The ruling principle of this project is that it needs to be done quickly. But I still have my pristine ink drawings, should there be a future need for them, and if I make a horrible mistake with the next step of this process, I can always print out replacement pages.

Step 6: Color
Originally, I was going to color the entire comic with markers. Yikes! It was a gaudy, splotchy mess. So, I decided to do the backgrounds in much gentler pencil colors, and do the characters and most foreground objects in marker, making them “pop” nicely into life, and giving a feeling of depth.
    Another disclaimer: I’ve heard your average marker isn’t very long-lasting. They’re convenient for this project, and I think with protection (I keep the finished pages in plastic sleeves) they’ll last long enough.
     I lay down the pencil colors first, use a paper towel to soften and blend the grainy strokes, and then erase the blotches.
     Tip: I like kneaded erasers for drawing pencils, since they don’t produce any flakes, but color pencil marks are tougher to get rid of, so a plastic eraser is necessary. I’ve found you can shape them with an X-Acto knife to make sharp edges and fine points for smaller work.

     Once the pencils are cleaned up, I bring in the markers. I love the bright colors they produce, and this watercolor variety have lovely brush tips, but they also have some downsides. For instance, they tend to make the computer ink bleed, often producing messy results. I’ve had to get rather clever with my brush-work. They also get darker wherever they overlap, leading to accidental “shading” I didn’t intend. I’ve learned a few tricks I can do with them, such as laying down a pencil layer first and going over it with the marker for a dulled-down effect, or adding a pencil glow to an otherwise marker-colored character to mimic night lighting.

     I keep a couple of “cheat sheets” nearby, which show thumbnails of the important characters, sets, and objects with their colors listed beside them. I’ve labeled all my markers with memorable names, such as “chocolate”, “rose”, “juicy”, “cement”, and so forth—which has the bonus benefit of entertaining me when I see lists such as sunny-dust-tomato-cobalt-navy next to a character.

Ta-Da!

The Home Stretch

In case you didn’t guess, the pages I’ve been showing you in progress are the final two! Which means I’m soon going to be publishing this comic book. The remaining work to be done is scanning the colored pages back into my computer, formatting the book, creating a cover, and hitting the “publish” button. Maybe I’ll save those steps for a future “backstage” post.