Of Gaffs and Waiting

After a major gaff this past weekend, I ended up owing a guy a painting.  I'm not going to get into any in-depth explanation but suffice it to say that in an extremely rare occurrence, my memory was more correct than Amy's, and a new policy was born whereby I shall no longer sell or discuss selling paintings that are not present at events I attend.  While a painting's presence does not mean it is not for sale (in fact, it's likely up for grabs), I cannot guarantee that my memory of the painting's location will be 100% accurate and I'd rather not come home again to find out that I've managed to sell a painting twice.

I'm sure that last bit made some of you want to slap me upside the head and I totally cop to being unprofessional and disorganized.  There really is no excuse for what happened and I guarantee that it will never happen again (my new policy ensures it).  Fortunately, the guy in question was pretty awesome about the whole thing and instead it was agreed that I would just go ahead and paint a new painting.

Okay, so that's more in-depth than I intended, and it really did sound shorter in my head... Moving on...

So, what does this mean?  Well, I had promised a while ago to do progress shots of a personal piece or a cover that was allegedly going to come through.  As of right now, the cover is MIA and due to the gaff mentioned above, I now have to paint something during the time I had set aside to work on my personal piece.  Still, I'll be able to post progress shots of this new piece, which means I can still fulfill a promise to the readers of this blog — I swear progress shots will appear in the near future.  However, it also means that I've broken a promise to myself.

As it now stands, I likely won't get on with my own work until late in the summer at the absolute earliest.  I have several large commissions queued up and I just know that time is going to roar by at an alarming rate.  With all the expenses of the world, client work and commissions need to come first, but I must confess that I am getting itchy.  The desire to work on something that is all my own with no one else's input is quickly going from whisper to shout.  It's been a year and a half since I managed to squeeze something in and the wait before me feels like an eternity.

The bad news is that everything between now and then may become tainted with resentment as it's not what I want to be doing.  Travel, taking the time to ride a bike or take a walk, and doing work for clients is all going to be seen on some level of my brain as hindrances to the perceived bliss and promise of my own work.  This is not uncommon for me, and it's something I've touched on before (link).  While I'll still put my all into each piece I have ahead of me, there's a part of me that will be irritated until the time comes when I can finally sit down and start slapping paint with no one to answer to.

The good news is this.  I have the reference — in fact, I've had the reference since before I moved to Massachusetts.  I also have the surface: thirty inches by forty inches, stretched Belgian linen — I've had that a long time, too.  I've got the materials, and I've got the sketch.  Now all I need is the time.

Grand Prix, Providence

©Amy Belledin

As mentioned before, I was at a Magic Grand Prix tournament last weekend in Providence, Rhode Island.  I figured it'd be worth tossing up some pictures Amy took of the event and adding a bit of color commentary.

©Amy Belledin

This hat is worth mentioning because...well, obviously it's pretty awesome.  There were several players rocking this hat and as far as I'm concerned it was easily the best bit of player wardrobe I saw all weekend.

©Amy Belledin

So the vast majority of what I do when I go to events like this is sign cards.  I don't keep track of how many cards I sign, but I'm sure that I signed well over a thousand of them over the two and half days I was there.  I'm pretty sure I signed fewer cards than when I was in Germany last year, but then I think there were fewer players, as well.  Someday, I really aught to have a go at keeping track of the numbers.  I'm not sure if the results would be amusing or depressing.  But I guess that would depend on how much my hand hurt.

Surprisingly, folks still ask how much it costs to have something signed, a subject I've covered before (link).  Short answer: signatures are free.  I wonder if there are Magic artists out there who do charge, or whether folks in line were just confused by players in front of them tipping from time to time.  If you're still wondering, check out that link.

©Amy Belledin

Fortunately for the players and fans, I was not the only artist at the event.  Several other artists including r.k. post, Ryan Pancoast, Lars Grant-West and Cyril Van Der Haegen were also in attendance which kept lines pretty short as players had a lot of lines to choose from.

Above, Ryan Pancoast checks out my Etched Monstrosity painting, probably pondering how long I'll have correctable eye sight what with all the tiny detail included.

©Amy Belledin

Here, Lars Grant-West is letting fly with all that built up artist angst I hear so much about.  Either that, or he's putting on his best game face to scare Amy away from his tip jar.

©Amy Belledin

Aside from signing, I end up doing a lot of drawing.  Here's a picture of my artist proofs all organized in alphabetical order.  I often end up drawing on the white backs of these puppies and during this event had the good fortune of getting to draw whatever I wanted on all but one of them.  For some reason, I was on a bird kick during the event and a lot of my images included birds in one way or another — like this zombie, for example.  Can't go wrong with a zombie.  'Course add a bird to that zombie and you've got instant gold.  Zombie bird?  Too far.

©Amy Belledin

©Amy Belledin

Here's the only request on a proof that I got.  Darth Vader.  I'd never drawn Darth Vader before.  Turns out to be difficult when you've only got one color (which is ironic because he's almost completely black).  I think he came out fairly well, however.  Could have been WAY worse.

Generally, I like getting to do my own thing on proof drawings.  I think that's true of most artists.  I know a lot of folks have a stock set of images they go for, but I try and do something a little different each time.  I like not knowing where I'm headed until it's too late.  Makes the moments when I'm not signing card after card more interesting.

©Amy Belledin

Yet another way I spend my time at these events is drawing on people's playmats, something I've covered in a FAQ (link).  They're quite a bit more time consuming because of their size and they tend to be more complex image-wise.  I think if you added every square inch I did during the Grand Prix, it would add up to about four full playmats — far fewer than fellow artist Ryan Pancoast was belting out.  He did three just in the last day (that I'm aware of).  Seriously, that dude's an animal.  'Course his drawing style is far neater and more appealing than my own.  I tend to be pretty sketchy, and that likely isn't some people's thing.

Anyway, playmat drawings can eat up the hours quick.  In fact, I often have to take them to the hotel room and get them done during "off" hours in order to keep the lines moving during the "on" hours.  Not this time, though.  I managed to do pretty much every drawing in the bits and bobs of time between signatures, which I was pretty happy about.

©Amy Belledin

So, this is me on Saturday night.  Dinner outside along Providence's canal.  It was also the night of Water Fire.  I'm sure only a few reading this are familiar with it, but Providence's canal is a pretty nice place.  It's kind of like a miniature version of the Seine River.  You can walk along the canal, and during Water Fire, they light these floating braziers all along the canal's length.  Add to that performance artists and hippy music, and you've got yourself an interesting (if not crowded) time.  Of course this just happened to be the weekend of Brown University's commencement, so the place was hopping, but I'm sure it's similarly crowded whenever Water Fire happens... but that's just my guess.

At the end of the day, it was a pretty great event, in a really great town.  Providence itself is worth checking out (if only for the restaurants), and I, for one, had a great time.  I want to thank Thomas Shea and his folks at TJ Collectibles for taking care of us with constant water, food and plenty of space.  Also, thanks to the fans and players for their kind words, conversation, and support.  It's all the people involved with the game that make this gig go from pretty good, to great.  I am extremely lucky to be doing this day in and day out and can't thank everyone enough.

In just a short week, I'll be in Japan to do it all over again.  Different crew, completely different part of the world — should be interesting!  Did I mention how lucky I am?

The Glyph...Sigil...Signature.......Thing.

Tom P. strikes again with the following:

I'd love to hear about personal glyph design! I know it's a pretty basic assignment in most art schools, but I've never come up with a good sigil design for my name that I thought worked. Any thoughts on that topic?

Wait.  Glyph design is a basic assignment in most art schools?  Really?  Huh.  Not at mine.  The subject of glyph design or signatures is a tough one for someone who regularly leaves his work unsigned, nevertheless I shall give my thoughts on the matter.  I shall endeavor to grope forth and accidentally fondle some truths.  I shall... You know, I should just get on with it.

First off, I can't really speak for others' glyph design.  I can really only speak of my own struggles with it and how I came to the conclusion that it simply wasn't right for me.  I have the letters "S" and "B" to deal with which, quite frankly, is not a good start.  On their own, they work splendidly.  In combination with other letters they can live happily.  Together, they just don't play well.  I have spent an inordinate amount of time attempting to cram them together in a way that was pleasing, alternating between upper and lower-case, mixing it up with different sizes, getting fancy and laying one letter or the other on its side.  Nothing seemed to work to my satisfaction, and because of this conclusion I am very happy that it was not a hoop I had to jump through in college as my grade would likely have been rather low.

Mind you, after spending much time on the matter by myself, I even dragged my wife into the mix.  She was a graphic designer, then became and art director, and is now the kind of person who hires those people and tells them what to do.  She's pretty good at manipulating typography and she found it as impossible as I had.  We then turned to our rather large collection of design books and annuals looking for inspiration and found nothing that even came close to being helpful.  What we did end up with was pages of S's and B's arranged this way and that, which somehow reminded me of some cliched schoolgirl's notebook that is covered in various arrangements of the name she would bear after marrying her sweetheart.

Mrs. Reginald Trustworthy
Mrs. R. Trustworthy
Mrs. Reginald K. Trustworthy
Mrs. R. K. Trustworthy
Evelyn Trustworthy
Evelyn M. Trustworthy
Mrs. Evelyn M. Trustworthy
And so forth.

The difference between the schoolgirl's fantasy and my own attempts at creating a glyph that felt right was that the schoolgirl's fantasy could actually come true.  In fact, I feel that I failed, and to be honest, this is the closest I ever got to a glyph I was happy with:

You can kind of see my train of thought from top to bottom.

What's wrong with this you ask?  Well, nothing really.  It's just that it doesn't feel like me.  It feels too contrived, somehow.  I'm not taking a jab at others' glyphs, mind you — as far as I'm concerned, there are some excellent signature glyphs out there that are far more contrived and work far better.  It's just that the contrivance doesn't feel right for me.  As a result, I turned to many of my illustration heroes ( Pyle, Rockwell, Wyeth, Dunn, Schoonover, Cornwell), and at the bottom of their paintings was just a simple name.  Sometimes very tightly done, but still just a name.  That felt far more comfortable, and when I do sign my work I just sign it with a simple "Belledin."

I realize that I may not have answered your question.  So I'll stick my neck out a little further.

Overall, I don't think sigils are a bad thing.  There are some excellent artists who've designed some really great signatures for themselves.  When dealing with the matter, yourself, I think it all boils down to making it good, making it fairly simple, and making it feel like it fits your work.  I'm a pretty traditional guy who went a very traditional route.  But maybe you're not.  Maybe your work is far edgier than mine.  If you go the glyph route, then maybe you pursue a similarly edgy design.  Pretty straightforward, right?

Where I feel folks tend to get into trouble is not in the design of the sigil or the signature itself, but rather the application there of.  What I see time and again is where the glyph becomes distracting within a piece's composition.  A quick story for you:

I know an illustrator who, in attempt to maintain the legibility of his signatures after reduction, used to sign his work really large.  What ended up happening was that his signature was so large, that it became a part of the composition, and a dysfunctional part at that.  Were his signature more complicated than it was, it would be that much worse.  Still, he had paintings that he'd labored over that looked pretty awful in real life and some of the work felt like he'd done elaborate background paintings for his signature.  Not many people want that on their wall.

At it's best, a signature should sit nicely in the piece and be something that you have to look for.  Unless intentional, it shouldn't really play as a compositional element, and if it is intentional, make sure it works well.  As far as design goes, I really think simpler is always better.  Simpler things tend not to call nearly as much attention to themselves.  On the other hand, J. C. Leyendecker did some really decorative stuff with his name that is definitely more elaborate than I would recommend anyone ever do and got away with it, so it's clear how little I know.

I'll sum up my thoughts on signatures and glyphs, names and sigils thusly: make it you, but say it, don't shout it.  Another way to put it perhaps is a now outdated philosophy on children: they should be seen and not heard.  Hope that helps.

Link Dump!!!

A link dump?  Really?  Total cop-out, I know.  But here's the deal, I'm up to my eyeballs in trying to get work done before this weekend (where I'll be appearing at the Magic Grand Prix in Providence, RI).  I'm really close to getting my assignment done (which is due on Friday), and I'm making the final push to hammer it home today.  As such, I'm going to give a couple nice little links from other blogs to check out.

First and foremost, here's a link to an entertaining article about the laws of freelancing from my cousin Chuck Wendig's blog.  It's full of perversity, sprinkled with profanity, and chock-full of truth.  I highly recommend it:


This Is Freelancer Law, Or: "How To Not Suck As a Freelancer"

Also, as an aside, Chuck and his wife just welcomed into the world a brand new (as opposed to used) baby boy.  You can read all about it (if you're so inclined) here: link.

Second, I'm going to link to a nice little blurb that Chris Moeller did for the Muddy Colors blog.  It's a good one for folks who have recently matriculated from college and are trying their hand at illustration.  As it's from the Muddy Colors blog, most of you reading this will already have seen it, but if you haven't, it's definitely worth a look-see as it, too, is full of truth and some good advice.  If you're wondering where I stand on the matter, just read what Chris has to say because my feelings are right in line with his.

Life After Art School: Five Years to an Illustration Career

Finally, here's a nice article by Donato about the ongoing debate as to whether or not art school and all of its expense is necessary nowadays with so many less traditional (and cheaper) options are available.  I have my own feelings about this subject which I'll likely put down at some point, but for now this is a pretty good start.  Donato makes some really excellent points, and he's made an excellent summation of how his own choices affected his path.


Career Choices

Well, that's it for me today.  Back to painting and making prints.  I'll hopefully be back with something a little more substantial tomorrow.  Well, substantial on my part.  There's definitely a lot of meat to savor in the above links.

Drawing Exercises I Have Known 2

Opposite hand drawing.

This is an old staple of drawing teachers the world over and requires only that you have two hands.  If you only have one hand, I guess you get to skip this exercise, or maybe you'll be made to draw with your feet instead.  However, if you happen to have two fully functioning hands, then it's a simple formula:

If you are right-handed, put the drawing utensil of your choice in your left hand and commence drawing.  If you are left-handed, put that drawing utensil in your right.

As I mentioned, opposite hand drawing is a pretty common exercise and is definitely a classic.  While it might be a mystery to some as to why anyone might bother, there are several good reasons to take on the task every now and again.

First off, let's suppose that you, as the owner of two fully-functional limbs, one day find yourself to be the owner of only one.  This could be for any variety of reasons including amputation (intentional or otherwise), mangling due to attempted garbage disposal maintenance, or good old fashioned stroke.  And let's also suppose that the limb you've managed to lose proper use of is the one you also happen to use to draw and paint.  Given that drawing and painting is your livelihood (if it isn't you likely wouldn't have ever done this exercise, anyway), it looks like you'll have no choice but to employ the use of your other hand.  If you've done some opposite hand drawing, then you've already laid the groundwork for overcoming this little obstacle.

Don't think it could happen?  Well, I've got two words for you: Frank Frazetta.  In the early 2000's, Frank Frazetta suffered a series of strokes which left his right hand useless.  Not being the type to give up, he simply started drawing with his left hand instead.  I doubt, somehow, that it was the first time he'd ever done so (though I could be horribly wrong and if you know different, please refrain from blabbing about it out as I'm trying to make a point here).  If it could happen to Mr. Frazetta, if could happen to you.  It's worth being prepared.

Doing any activity repeatedly builds pathways in the brain that, over time, improve one's ability to do said activity.  Drawing with your opposite hand is no different.  While I'm not saying that it's important that you become equally proficient with both hands, it doesn't hurt to have laid down a bit of a foundation to allow for a little insurance should something evil befall you.

Secondly, as with any other drawing exercise, opposite hand drawing can improve how you interpret what you see.  It can help you more effectively translate the things before your eyes and push them out your pencil.  Drawing exercises are practice and practice not only sharpens skills but helps keep them sharp.  Last time I checked, that was a good idea.  I know it's trite and obvious but it still bears repeating, because drawing, in my experience, isn't exactly like riding a bicycle.  Such a skill can deteriorate.  While I can't say as to whether the ability to draw can ever completely go away, I'm sure like me, you don't want to find out.

A third reason for such an exercise is that it's a change-up to your routine.  As I mentioned before, change-ups are an important part of a complete breakfast.  It keeps your practice from getting boring, and adds a new element to the mix.  As tempting as eating cornflakes every day might be, it can be helpful to one's spirit to try something new.  Eggs and sausage perhaps?  Oatmeal?  Leftover pizza?  If nothing else, it'll make you realize just how easy you have it with your dominant hand, and the relief at getting back to your normal m.o. will be like a mental vacation.

Whatever you do, should you be tasked to draw with your opposite hand, don't avoid doing the exercise.  I could have gotten away with it, personally, as I'm left-handed.  When my professors in school told us to switch, I could have kept on going as I was only one of two lefties in my class and my professors didn't exactly keep track of who was a southpaw and who wasn't.  While every once in a while, I would test their memory, I also found myself switching even when there was no mandate.  The thing that was so appealing is that there was no pressure to do great drawings.  It was pretty liberating to just sit back and make marks with but a meager hope that they land where you intend them to.  That kind of liberation is pretty fun for me, and I can't say that I always have as much freedom in my day to day work.  So, I enjoy it when I can.

Cheese Platter 7

•My parents always spoke of a barber from their youth whose quality of haircut depended on the amount of alcohol he'd consumed.  Contrary to what you might think, the more inebriated the barber was, the better the haircut.  I'm sure, however, that there was a point that the scale started tipping in the other direction.  I'm sure beyond a certain level of drunkenness the quality of haircuts had to start deteriorating.  Unless, of course, the barber in question was able to maintain a buzz all day long, which I guess he managed to do considering that he stayed in business.  My own barber, so far as I can tell, is more a talker.  If you can get him to talk about marathons, the sport of running in general, the Red Sox or politics that lean towards the right, you're guaranteed a good cut.  I have to fake it with all four of those topics as none of them really interest me.  However, there is a delicate balance to shoot for, as I learned about yesterday.  You don't want to get too deep into a conversation with the man because he just keeps cutting and cutting and cutting until the conversation ends.  My hair is the shortest it's been since my Mom gave me a buzz cut in elementary school.  It's a good cut, just really, really short.

•I have an irrational fear of my garbage disposal.  This is the first time I've ever lived in a place that has one and there's a part of my brain that is positive that I am going to cause myself grievous manual harm.  This wouldn't be much of a worry if the switch for the disposal wasn't where the over-sink light switch has been in every other place I've ever lived.  There is no over-sink light switch in our current place, so the way I see it my eventual hand mangling will go down like this: something will need to be retrieved from the disposal unit and I will stick my hand down there.  In an attempt to shine more light on the situation, I will flip the switch unconsciously thinking it is for the light, and voila: nubs for fingers.  Of course, I know it prudent to unplug the unit before sticking my hand in it, but I still can't shake the fear.  Surprisingly, however, the fear has not featured in any of my recent nightmares.  So, I guess that's a good thing.  I'll be well rested when it all goes down.

•In my backyard, there was once a shed.  During what was an unusually snowy winter, the shed's roof caved in due to the accumulated weight of the snow.  I expected the contents of the shed to be tools and lawn equipment, but it turned out to be mostly furniture which was unfortunately ruined.  Last week, my landlord showed up with his daughter and dismantled the shed.  He waved me over after finishing one day and proceeded to ask me what I'd like him to do with the additional yard that had been created by the now-absent shed.  I had expected him to just buy a new shed and put it there, but clearly he wasn't going to bother.  Instead, he wanted to know whether he should put a garden in, a patio in, or just seed the bald patch of earth and make the yard that much bigger.  I was a little befuddled.  It's not my land, you see.  It's his.  I bounced the question back to him reminding him that it was his land to do with what he wanted.  I'm not really sure we'd need a patio as we have nice a covered porch.  A garden would be great in theory but neither my wife nor I have been gifted with green thumbs.  More back yard would be easiest for him, I explained, and would likely be the most versatile option as well.  He thought about it and seemed satisfied with my conclusion.  So now, we have 33% more backyard.  And also the nicest landlord I've ever had.

Jeffrey Catherine Jones

Jeffrey Catherine Jones passed away today.

I never know what to say when it comes to these things.  I fumble and grope at words, but everything always sounds so trite.

What I can say is this: I never knew him — hell, I never even met him — but he was like a looming force, ever present and elusive.  He was an inspiration above all...  I guess he shall remain so, but it still hurts to know that one of your heroes is no longer out there somewhere fighting the good fight.

If you follow a lot of blogs, you'll be seeing a lot of entries about Jeff today.  They'll all likely have the above link.  I encourage you to click that link and take some time to look at the work, maybe read some snippets from the autobiography, check out the works in progress.

Me, I'm going to get some painting done while I reconsider some things.

sb