From the Prayer Room Week 5

I know, I know, six weeks and I've only gotten one week finished the way I initially proposed.  Sigh.

Things are a little busy here on my end.  I've decided that For the next few weeks, I'm only going to worry about the sketch portion of this project.  I'll finish "Here be Dragons", "Surrender Unto Hope", and week 3 (which I'm going to call "Ruah"), but after those I'm going to pick and choose the ones I end up painting until my schedule settles a bit.  So . . .

For weeks my mind had been turning over the character of Tulkas - one of the Valar from J.R.R. Tolkien's The Silmarillion.  Nienna, Tulkas and Orome are have always been my favorite of the Valar, but the explanation of that would take to long.  Anyway, here's some excerpts from The Silmarillion about Tulkas:

But in the midst of the war a spirit of great strength and hardihood came to the aid of the Valar, hearing in the far heaven that there was a battle in the Little Kingdom; and Arda was filled with the sound of his laughter. So came Tulkas the Strong, whose anger passes like a mighty wind, scattering cloud and darkness before it; and Melkor fled before his wrath and his laughter, and forsook Arda, and there was peace for a long age.  And Tulkas remained and became on of the Valar of the Kindom of Arda; but Melkor brooded in the outer darkness, and his hate was given to Tulkas for ever after." 

"Greatest in strength and deeds of prowess is Tulkas, who is surnamed Astaldo, the Valiant.  He came last to Arda, to aid the Valar in the first battles with Melkor.  He delights in wrestling and in contests of strength; and he rides no steed, for he can outrun all things that go on feet, and he is tireless.  His hair and beard are golden, and his flesh ruddy; his weapons are his hands.  He has little heed for either past or the future, and is of no avail as a counsellor, but is a hardy friend . . . Tulkas laughs ever, in sport or in war, and even in the face of Melkor he laughed in battles before the Elves were born." 

So I went into the prayer room and this image of a laughing warrior God had been humming in my head for a few weeks.  At some point, someone read Isaiah 64 (specifically verses 1-4), and I couldn't get the idea of Tulkas out of my head for the rest of the night.  So I went with it.  Psalm 2:1 & 4-6 (thanks Rene!), Psalm 3:3-4 and Psalm 18:28-36 were also read over the course of the evening . . .

So I started trying to draw Tulkas - or the aspect of God that Tulkas embodies: a storm of righteous anger that casts down evil to make way for joy.  So I'm calling this week's sketch "Tulkas Astaldo".

I had this epic idea of what Tulkas would look like - helmet, armor, the works.  A mighty, big picture with a man like figure clothed in everything strong and imposing!

And it wouldn't work.

I nearly shredded the page drawing and redrawing the sketch.

So I went back to Tolkien to reread everything and found myself caught on this concept of Tulkas as a wrestler.  My two brothers wrestled in high school, so I know a few paltry facts about the sport, and I knew that helmet I kept trying to draw would get in the way of any wrestling.  The armor, too. So I went back to the drawing board (so to speak) and tried to put my human imagining aside in favor of the work.  And then, as if by magic, I found the sketch.  Go figure.  Goes to show that simpler is better sometimes.

Initially, I wasn't sure that I liked the final product - there was a lot of struggle even after I found the sketch.  But I think it's growing on me.

From the Prayer Room Week 3

Woohoo!  All four weeks' sketches are done! I am caught up - now to finish the paintings . . .

This piece is going to be a full painting once I finish "Coming Storm" and a couple others.  It's kinda cheating to not do a painting in a week for this one, but I think the idea is strong enough that it deserves a full scale effort.  So.  No title as of yet.  But I have a model in mind, hopefully she says yes; I hear she's a bit camera shy . . .

From the Prayer Room Week 4

Wait, what happened to week 2 and 3, you say?  Have no fear, they're in the works, too.  I got a bit behind with the whole Spectrum thing.

As you can see, my brain seems to be stuck on the ideas of water and light.  But that's the point of all this: an immediate creative response to whatever was impressed on my heart at that time.  The sketches don't typically illustrate whatever I wrote down, but they try and capture a feeling, an idea, an emotion that I had.  For instance, last week's (which you haven't seen, yet) is directly related to several things that were prayed about and sung, but is a more declarative reaction on my part.  This one is more about where I am right now.  The truth is that for most of these, They feel significant, but I don't necessarily know exactly what they're about every time.  The interpretation doesn't come all at once.  Anyway...

This one's going to take a bit longer, I'm going to experiment with technique and have no intention of finishing by the end of the week. Week 2 should be done by then, though.

Also, check back later on this week to see my overview of SFAL 3!

From the Prayer Room Week 2: Update

Made it!  Here's a scan of the page.  

So, I was debating between this idea and another for this week. The other could have been really beautiful or really creepy, but in the end it was a little too direct, in a "in your face", "here's the message" kinda way. Haven't tossed the idea out completely - maybe something for another week?  We'll see.

I felt like there was more narrative, more of a question about what was going on with this idea.  And it was underwater.  I have always wanted to do an underwater painting.  

And Now We Return You to Your Regularly Scheduled Program

Here's what's been happening in my life since I last really posted:

So I went to SFAL 2 and managed to get back home without having been transported to Oz by a tornado, though that might have been interesting.

I have mixed feelings about Kansas City.

I don't know what to write here.  I don't know what I want to say.  I'm working on one or two (or 6) projects. I have a bunch of ideas that I want to experiment with.

I'm trying to get off coffee.  Teacchino has been suggested as a possible substitute, but I think I made it wrong because it both smelled and tasted like paint-thinner.  Or what I imagine what paint thinner would taste like.

One of my brothers came home from college for the summer, so things were a little reminiscent of that Chinese saying around my house: "May you live in interesting times." I know it's usually meant as a curse, but I rather liked the variety.  Of course there's always the possibility of too much of a good thing . . .

My sister got married this summer, too.  Life has been both very stressful and very boring.  And I have no idea what else to say about any of this right now.  So.  If you haven't seen some of what I have been working on through Instagram, here's a quick update:

Drawing Dragons

On the off chance that this might be useful to someone, or for myself to look back on later: here is how "Drogo" came to life.

Anytime I try and do something in art that I haven't done before, I look to the masters.  Fortunately there are several Dragon Masters and they all tend to congregate over at Muddy Colors blog.  What's even more helpful is when all said Dragon Masters congregate to talk dragons over a two week period - which they did last September.  And piz-de-resistance: Justin Gerard's fantastic post on filling the storehouses in your brain with reference info from real life which you can read here, as well as some other tips on using real life to inspire fantastic illustrations here.

So I pulled up a whole mess of reference and dived in - and almost immediately got lost.

But I discovered two very important things: one being that I don't like drawing reptiles.  At all.  And two, Gerard knows his business and should always be heeded lest brain sucking aliens who feed on the unwary and under-researched find you and . . . well, eat your brains.

What I'm trying to say is that despite my distaste for two-dimensional reptile reproduction, I learned a lot.  And I know my dragons are better for it.

I sat myself down and drew a bunch of lizards and crocodiles and eels.  That was more frustrating than I anticipated and might have added to my general dislike of the species.  I leaned a bit too heavily on my reference and the first few came out too . . . crocodile-ish.

I kept at it, hated everything, and finally just put all the reference away, listening to Gerard's advice despite my doubts of being able to pull something like this off without guidelines.  Then I put in too much turtle - which was odd because I hadn't been looking at any turtle reference.  Then because owls are always on the brain, they decided to jump in at one point and I had to call everyone to order.  But by then, my youngest sister had tossed in some seahorses and that yanked all of us down a completely new path.  Out of nowhere, some real horses joined up with a komodo dragon or two and by that point I really had no idea where we were going and was just along for the ride.

After I had the rough idea of what to sculpt (the word sculpt being used here in a very general rough vague sort of way) I attempted several times to start . . . and restart.  And restart.  Then I brought out the tin foil and everything started working a little better.  A not to those who are masochistic enough to try this in the future: armatures make Sculpey much more bearable.  And usable.  

I did the head separate because it was a nightmare trying to shape it while it was on the body.  And it kept coming out looking like the lizard from Rescuers Down Under.  No joke.  

Finally I cooked the darn thing and hung it up between two chairs to photograph.

The problem that I ran into after that is I tend to lean too heavily on my reference and the lack of detail 1. was making my drawing look half-assed and 2. was good because it made me see that about myself.

So.  A general outline of how I made the little dragon guy.  Hopefully some pitfalls identified to avoid in the future.  

Happy New Year!

"Gabriel was not very good at magic.  His parents told him and their friends that he was only "struggling a little".  His older brothers were more blunt (they usually were) and said that there hadn't been a Prendergast so uniformly bad at magic for ten generations."

Next piece in the works.  This is just a sketch - no his arms are not deformed, I just drew them poorly.

Stay tuned for a story summary!

The Final Little Red

Just a drive-by today.  Look it's finished!

Here's what's next:

Steampunk Little Red - Part 5

Just a quick update this week.  18 hours in, longest I've ever spent on a painting and Eric and Rebecca are talking about spending at least 50.  I cannot even fathom that.

I'm having to be careful, cause I loose steam more quickly and I really don't want to rush here at the end.  Colored pencils have been awesome - not getting lost in the painting nearly as badly.  But one thing is clear about all of this: I need to build up my endurance.

And an idea I am working on for a Christmas card.

Steampunk Little Red - Part 1

Original Sketch

Revised Sketch

A sample of the reference I took this weekend

This is a VERY rough outline.  I know that I am not nearly as clever or witty as I think I am.  There are lots of plot holes.  I know this.  You have been warned.  And it's mine, so, don't steal it.  Please.  

Little Red was always a headstrong, fearless child.  She grew up on a dirigible under the watchful eye of her mother, the pilot, and her father,  the captain.  But even their near constant vigilance never succeeded in keeping Little Red out of some kind of mischief.  She loved flying and being surrounded by the of crew, whom she always considered a motley assortment of aunts, uncles and older siblings.  The one thing she hated more than anything is being stuck on land for any length of time - or “grounded” as she called it.  


Her grandmother (her mother’s mother) was a famous inventor.  She was brilliant.  No one had ever seen her match as far as sheer ingenuity.  Sometimes her inventions seemed not of this world - they’d be years ahead of her time and she had volume upon volume of diagrams for inventions that couldn’t be built yet because the technology to build them didn't exist.  She’d developed a way to process spider silk to produce a lightweight fabric that is stronger than steel.  She’d also developed a kind of viewing device so small she could incorporate it into one of her mechanical bugs and it transmits those images over extreme distances.  She revolutionized the airship engine, making it more lightweight and nearly 4 times as powerful.  You name it and she’d probably built it or made it better.  She was a temperamental, bossy old woman, though, obsessed with a theory about inter-dimensional travel.  Not even her daughter completely understood the extent of her obsession.  Or the reason for it.  

For a long time, the grandmother worked in the open: she took on apprentices, drove hard bargains for her inventions, fixed things that sparked her interest.  Until one day, she told her daughter that she had started to make some real progress on her theory.  She became a tyrant in the workshop and slowly began to make progress on her machine.  It was a doorway, she said.  A door to other worlds.  A way home.  

And then there was a break in at the workshop.  A mess, the newspapers said, but no real harm done.  Except the intruders had taken what work there was on the door.  It hadn’t been functional, but it had been close.  The grandmother was devastated.  She was enraged.  Paranoid and convinced that it had been an inside job, she fired all her apprentices and moved her workshop to an undisclosed place.  No one’s heard from her in a while and she communicates with her daughter very infrequently.  

It wasn’t completely out of character for the grandmother to drop off the radar for weeks on end, but after three months, her daughter became a little concerned.  She knew where her mother’s secret workshop was and thought the basis of the paranoia was more old age than truth.  She played with the idea of visiting her, but their flight log was booked for weeks and there was no one she trusted to fly her beloved dirigible, The Red Rider.  Then she thought of sending Little Red, but she knew the fierce opposition that would come from her daughter at the suggestion of being “grounded” for an indeterminate amount of time and hesitated.  She understood her daughter’s dislike of being on land - she herself had run away from home when she was not much older than Little Red, longing for the skies herself.  Over the years she had earned her piloting papers and now there was nowhere she’d rather be than at the wheel of The Red Rider with her husband and child beside her.  

But Little Red could be a “right terror” and after one too many misadventures, both of Little Red’s parents agreed that drastic measures were necessary.  The younger brother of one of the crewmen had been visiting and was on his way back to his own apprenticeship with an engineering guild near the grandmother’s hidden workshop.  He would accompany Little Red as far as their roads went together and see her safely on her way to her grandmother’s.  End of discussion.  

Little Red was angry.  She railed, she pouted, she even tried her hand at crying, but nothing moved her parents.  So when the appointed day came, she was seen onto the train with the young engineer and sent on her way.  

Regardless of his innocence in the whole affair, the young engineer took the brunt of Little Red’s frustration.  He bore it as patiently as he could, but when a group of engineers took seats in their car, he entered into conversation with them and ignored Little Red.

Meanwhile, the men who had taken the grandmother's invention were rather annoyed that the machine they stole was not a working prototype.  And the fact that the grandmother had gone “underground” meant that she was paranoid enough to see them coming even if they did find her.  

Now, they know the police have someone called “the Wolf” in custody.  He’s a ruthless bounty hunter, tracker, assassin, and whatever else you’ll pay him for.  They pay off the guards and tell him that they will give him his freedom and lots of money if he’ll track down the grandmother and steal the (working) invention.  He agrees.  

He set out to learn everything he could about the grandmother.  No one knew where she came from, and up until she started making things, no one had ever heard of her.  But he did find out about the grandmother’s daughter and her family on The Red Rider.  He figured they were the best way of finding the grandmother, so he followed them for months.  He found out that they hadn’t heard from the grandmother in a while and figured it’s just a matter of time till they send someone to check on her.  When he overheard their plans to send Little Red, he was jubilant.  Following Little Red and the young engineer onto the train he waited and planed until Red is left alone.  

When the stranger sat down across from her, Little Red ignored him.  She was still angry and pouting about the whole “off to grandma’s” thing.  When he started making small talk she was downright rude, but he persists and she eventually finds herself venting all her frustration about being sent off to grandmother’s.  She didn’t tell him where the workshop is, but she told him the name of a nearby town.  He was very sympathetic to her plight: asked her questions about her grandmother and their relationship - all seemingly innocent questions, but in her self-pity and anger, Little Red had no idea how much she was really giving up to the stranger.  
Internally, the wolf was weighing his options - he could use Little Red as leverage, but how could he get her alone?  There were too many people on the train, and the young engineer traveling with her - he didn’t want to risk alerting the grandmother that he was coming by kidnapping her granddaughter.  

Manipulating Little Red’s disgruntled state, he talked about what a pity it was that she had to be hurried off to her grandmother’s so soon, couldn’t she at least take in the sites?  There were some fantastic shops in the town she was getting off at before continuing on to her grandmother’s - besides, wouldn’t her grandmother appreciate a little something?  But of course, there was nothing she could do if her parents had told her to go straight there.  Little Red denied that she has been told any such thing - and then the young engineer came back and told the Wolf to shove off.  

When they arrive at their station, the young engineer saw that Little Red was put on a vehicle to the town near her grandmother’s and told her to go straight there and make sure she contacted her parents when she got to her grandmother’s.  The Wolf watched them, observing Little Red’s increasingly belligerent state, and followed on behind her when she set off.  

Angry at everyone and telling herself that she isn’t a child to be babysat and told what to do, Little Red noticed they were passing by the shops the Wolf had told her about on the train and throwing caution to the wind, she jumped out of the moving transport and dashed into the crowd towards the shops.  She could find her own way to her grandmother’s and she would bring something with her from the shops.  

The Wolf meanwhile was beyond pleased that his little diversion had worked.  He contacts his own small dirigible that is not far off and using topographical maps quickly discovers the only place the grandmother could have hidden her workshop and sets out. 

Finding the workshop and bypassing the grandmother’s security, he takes the grandmother by surprise - she’d over-exhausted herself just as her daughter suspected and had been in bed for several days.  The Wolf locks her up in the belly of his ship and tried to make her tell him about her machine, but she won't.  

Back at the town, Little Red eventually finished her shopping spree and set out to find her own transportation to her grandmother’s.  Hitching a ride on the back of a farmer’s wagon, she made her slow way toward her grandmother’s.  Eventually parting ways with the farmer, she headed off into the woods on her own and finally arrived at her grandmother’s workshop.  She went inside, confused to find that none of the lights were working.  But there was some noise coming from the back of the workshop and Little Red felt her way carefully towards it calling out to her grandmother as she went.

Well, it wasn’t her grandmother in the workshop, of course, it was the Wolf trying to figure out the invention and what to take to his employers.  He froze when he heard Little Red’s voice, trying to figure out a way to get rid of her.  But then a thought came to him - Little Red might be important to the grandmother, maybe he could use her as leverage.  SO he called out to Little Red, very softly and almost indistinctly trying to disguise his voice,  directing her to where he was.  

It was still dark in the workshop, and Little Red could barely make out what she thought was her grandmother’s form bent over a piece of machinery.  She comments on how different her grandmother looks as she comes closer - realizing too late that it isn’t her grandmother.  

Soon, the Wolf had both Little Red and her grandmother locked up in the belly of his ship.  As soon as she realizes that the Wolf has her granddaughter as well, she gives up her invention.   She is furious with Little Red, though, and gives her granddaughter a scathing piece of her mind about her lack of responsibility, etc, etc.  In the shock and fear, something gets through to Little Red and she sees herself quite clearly for the first time and her self-confidence and pride is shaken.  

Meanwhile, Little Red’s parents haven’t heard from her.  They contact the young engineer in the early morning hours and he goes out to look for her.  He in turn dragged the guy hired to transport her to the grandmother’s town and found out about her little escapade in the shopping district.  He spent a long time tracking her down and eventually found someone who remembered her getting a ride with a farmer going home the day before.  Annoyed and grim, he sets out to the other town.  

Along the way he started to notice the sound of a dirigible coming from the woods and decided to investigate - who would be putting their ship down in the middle of the woods?  When he got there he recognized the Wolf from the day before loading up machinery onto his ship.  THe young engineer, not being a complete idiot, thought that it was too much of a coincidence that the same man who was talking to Little Red (now missing) on the train the day before was there in the woods loading mysterious machinery near where he suspected Little Red’s grandmother’s workshop should be.  So he followed the Wolf back to the workshop, snuck in after him and started to look for Little Red and her grandmother.  But of course, they weren’t there.  So he went back to the Wolf’s ship while the Wolf was busy packing the machine up and searched the dirigible.  

When he did find Little Red and her grandmother, deep in the belly of the Wolf’s ship,* and broke them out.  The grandmother and the young engineer quickly come up with a plan to catch the Wolf.  Little Red, wanting to make up for the trouble she’s caused, volunteers to make sure the Wolf can’t take off in his ship in the meanwhile.  

Her confidence in herself was shaken, but if there was anything Little Red knew like the back of her hand, it was dirigibles.  So she set off alone to find the controls of the ship.

The grandmother and the young engineer meanwhile had snuck off the ship and back into the workshop just before the Wolf set off with another load for his ship.  The two gather what they need and set out to catch the Wolf.  

On the ship, Little Red was finishing disabling the flight mechanisms when the Wolf stumbled upon her.  Enraged, he chases her through the ship and out into the woods, right into the grandmother and young engineer’s hastily contrived trap.  

They hand the Wolf over to the authorities, Little Red gets in trouble with her parents, again, and has to thank the young engineer for saving her.  She also has to stay with her grandmother to help her move to a new hidden workshop, since it’s probable that the Wolf will tell his employers where the shop is to get himself out of prison.  

*I know, I crack myself up

You can see some of my other stories and ideas for stories here.

Little Red Riding Hood - Steampunk

For those of you who don't know me, I kinda love steampunk.  I love the visual aspect of it and the potential historical revisions that could happen.  I've even put together my own little side project (it's on hold right now), taking people in my life and re-imagining  them in a steampunk world.  

So when Eric told us our next assignment was to do a cover for a young-adult version of Little Red Riding Hood that was "ANY direction: sci fi red riding hood, or steampunk, or traditional, or urban gothic fantasy", all I saw was "steampunk".  Done. 

And of course as soon as I started imagining what the world and who this character was, a story started to grow in my head.  

But first, I had to rewrite the original and incorporate all my favorite pieces.  Because I am OCD that way.

Little Red Riding Hood lived on the edge of the forest with her parents.  One day, her mother gave her a basket of food to take to her grandmother’s house.  

“Stay on the path,” said her mother, “and go straight to Grandma’s house.”

So Little Red set out.  Along her way, she saw a field of wildflowers and stepped off the path to gather some for her grandmother.  There were woodcutters working nearby, so when a wolf stepped out of the forest and spoke to her, Little Red was not afraid.

“What are you doing little girl?” asked the wolf.  He was very hungry and had a very great mind to eat her up, but he dared not, because of the woodcutters.  

“I am picking flowers for my grandmother,” said Little Red.  “I am going to visit her; my mother has given me a basket of food to give my grandmother.”

“I see,” said the Wolf. “Does she live nearby?”

“Oh, yes,” replied Little Red, “just over that hill and past the mill.”

“I see,” said the Wolf with a sly look in his eye.  “Little girl, why are you picking flowers here?  Surely those yonder are far more beautiful and would please your grandmother better than these.”

Little Red looked, and indeed, she thought, the flowers were far more beautiful.  And so she took up her basket and went to gather more flowers for her bundle.  And each time she picked one, she thought she saw a more beautiful one farther off, and so she wandered farther and farther into the woods. 

Meanwhile, the Wolf was running towards the grandmother’s house, chuckling to himself over his cleverness.  Soon he came to the grandmother’s door and knocked.

“Who’s there?” called Little Red’s grandmother.

“It’s me, Grandmother,” cried the Wolf, “Little Red, and I have brought you a basket of food from my mother.”

“Oh, come in dear,” replied the grandmother, “just push the latch, I am not feeling well enough to get out of bed today.”

The wolf pushed the latch, stepped inside, and ate the grandmother.  Then, quickly putting on her clothes and nightcap, he got into the bed and covered himself with the bedclothes to wait for Little Red.  

Little Red, having gathered all the beautiful flowers she could carry, hurried on towards her grandmother’s house.  When she got there, she called out, “Grandmother, let me in and see the beautiful flowers I have brought you!”

“Come in, child, come in,” said the Wolf in the grandmother’s voice, “I am too sick to get up, just let yourself in.”

So Little Red opened the door and went to her grandmother’s bed.  But her grandmother looked very strange.

“Grandmother,” cried Little Red, “what big ears you have!”

“All the better to hear you with, my dear,” replied the Wolf.

Looking closer, Little Red said, “Grandmother, what big eyes, you have!”

“All the better to see you with my dear,” replied the Wolf, smiling.

“Oh,” cried Little Red, in even greater astonishment, “What big teeth you have, Grandmother.”

“Well,” replied the Wolf, taking off the nightcap, “All the better to eat you with, my dear.”

And he gobbled up Little Red.  

Now, the Wolf was very full by this time, and he lay back down on the Grandmother’s bed, fell asleep, and began to snore.  Loudly.

Soon, a woodcutter came along, and passing by the grandmother’s house thought, “How can an old woman snore like that?”  So he decided to investigate.  He stepped inside, and can you imagine his surprise when he saw no sign of the grandmother, only a great, ugly, fat wolf snoring away in the grandmother’s bed.  

“Well, this won't do,” he thought to himself.  “He must have eaten the old woman and lay down to sleep it off.”  Taking a pair of very sharp scissors, he cut open the Wolf’s belly.  Out jumped Little Red and the grandmother who were, quite rightly, very thankful to the woodcutter for his help.  Together they dragged the wolf outside where the woodcutter took his ax and chopped off the wolf’s head.  

Little Red 

The Woodcutter

The Wolf

Sketchdump

I promise, I am trying to get the trip to Hutchmoot into words.  Until then, here's some doodles.

A Teaser

I know I skipped last week, so I figure I'd try and give y'all a teaser for tomorrow (if anyone cares ; p).

This is Siegfried from that piece I am working on for my class with Eric Fortune.

Home Again, Home Again

I think I have a crappy scanner.  Now to be fair, I hate scanning. I'm not a fan on a good day, but recently I've been looking at my work after I've scanned and edited it (or at least attempted to) and I am starting to wonder if it's just . . . my scanner.

Does anyone know anything about scanners?  Like what a good one is and how much it costs?  I'd love to get some insight . . .

Anyway, I am back.  Washington was both awesome and stressful which means it was a good trip.

Coffee should both start and end a good trip - coffee and a good book.

Or groping.  My brother would go with groping.  Either way, my trip was staunchly supported on either end by all three.

I got to the airport with enough time to grab a cup of joe after having my bags ransacked and my personal being patted down by the very nice TSA lady.  But I couldn't leave because there was something wrong with my backpack (I don't check bags, especially when I am going to a workshop where loosing my art supplies would be . . . really not good).  They kept talking about a water bottle I had in my backpack.  I was very confused because the only water holding container I had in my backpack was my Nalgene - which was in the lid of my pack and not the main compartment.

Assorted chargers, papers, and knickknacks I had shoved into the lid poured out as another TSA agent went searching for the said Nalgene.  I ginned sheepishly. I wanted to help, I really did!  But you're not allowed to touch your stuff if you've elected to be pat down until you're cleared.  The poor flustered guy looked at the assortment of buckles and straps and chords holding my life for the week together and said, "Yeah, let me run it through again."

It was only later after 4 runs through the x-ray machine and they had released me with no small measure of exasperation and relief that I thought about the bottle of graphite powder I had carefully secured in a ziplock and stuffed down into the main compartment of my pack.  Oops.

Anyway, grabbed the joe and sat and read "Mind of the Maker", by Dorothy L. Sayers.  The first chapter - which isn't even about art knocks my socks off.

And that was only the beginning of my week.  First, the plane malfunctioned and they unloaded all the passengers  so they could drain the fuel tank and refill the plane.  They told us it would take 10 minutes or so.  I laughed.

An hour (or more) later we were on our way.

My rental car was fire-engine red, which pleased me far more than it should have - considering that it wasn't like I was going to keep the car or something.

I also got lost.  A lot.  I am of the opinion that whoever designed the streets and non-existent signage is at fault and I am sticking with that opinion.  Also, who puts all the entrances to and exits from the highway on the same side of the street?  I cannot tell you how many times that threw me and I had to drive down to where I could make a U-turn and come back.  And did I mention the absence of signage?

Anyway.  I explored Seattle a little on the first day I was there while battling a massive migraine.  Love those.    I went to the original Starbucks and Pikes Place Market early in the morning and watched them unload all the flowers and produce and fish.  That was cool.   And such a vast assortment of smells.  Conflicting smells . . . But in all seriousness, I have never smelled flowers like that.  They were so beautiful - and I am not a flower person.  Their fragrance filled the air.  Literally.  Occasionally the smell of the bread from the French Bakery would waft through the market and set my mouth watering.  I wanted to go in - the set-up was really fascinating (and did I mention the smell?) but I didn't trust myself to stay away from the gluten.  So irritating, but I've decided that it's not as painful as the subsequent days of pain and discomfort would have been.

Look at me making progress.

The only disappointing thing was that I never got there at just the right time to see them throwing the fish.  Everyone who's ever been to Seattle and Pikes Place Market told me to go watch them throw the fish . . . and I think I either got there too early or too late on all three times I tried.

Also went to the original REI.  Dear Lord in Heaven.  That was traumatizing.  In a good way.  I have never seen so much outdoor stuff in one place.  And they've made a kind of "forest" you have to walk through to just get to the front door.  You have to see it to believe it.

Next day I went to the San Juan Islands - I made the dock just as the ferry was loading.  But I couldn't get on until the next one which didn't leave for another two hours.  Gah.  This was a recurring them for the entire trip, by the way.  I didn't plan as compulsively as I usually do and it reinforced why I am/need to be so anal about planning.  There is something to be said about just going with the flow, though.  And that was another theme for the week (mainly as a result of my poor planning).  I rolled with it, went down to the beach and did a little watercolor of the view.  Not great but good practice.

None of these pictures have been edited yet . . . I love light and shadow so you'll see a lot of that.  I'm not a photographer.  For me all this is reference for later pieces.

The next day the class started.  I checked out of the hostel I had been staying in, dumped everything in the car and drove to Bothell.  I got there early, camped out at a coffee shop for an hour or so and tried to calm my "raging nerves".

I debated with myself about how honest I wanted to be about my struggles over that weekend.  Especially with the Internet.  But I was rather humbled and encouraged by Nicholas Kole's heartfelt honesty about his struggles with art on his blog, so I am taking a leap.

I felt inadequate and painfully out of place.  It was like my first day of high school all over again (which was really horrible, I had been home schooled up to that point and did not want to go to a public school).  "You're 25, for goodness sake," I told myself over and over again, "Get a grip."  It didn't really work - my personal pep talks usually don't, I've found.  And by the end of the day, despite both Iain and Brom being absolutely wonderful and encouraging, I was so emotionally frazzled by the end of the day I had to run to the hotel, check in, and hide in my room for a couple of hours.  I was really irritated with myself. I went searching for some bubble tea, watched a stupid TV show and tried to laugh off my emotional state, but I still couldn't sleep, couldn't relax.  Finally after trying to ignore it and hope that it went away, I had to get up and deal with it.  

So I put on a song that had really spoken to me on the ferry ride out to San Juan - "I Am All He Says I Am" performed by Kari Jobe and Cody Carnes, opened up my bible to the book of Psalms and started praying the verses that stuck out to me. And then I started speaking those truths over myself. I don't know how long that was, but eventually I was able to go to sleep.

The next day was better. I got there early and Iain was looking over some of my sketched for the Pied Piper and asked if he could look at my sketchbook.

No, Iain, I do not want you to look at my sketchbook. (and just to be clear, that was sarcasm. I find that it doesn't translate so well in type . . .)

Actually, I was more like "Oh, well, yes, of course." But you have to imagine the squee-ing and bouncing, 'cause that was only going on in my head. For real. Only in my head.

He loved the toned paper that I was working on and was surprised when I told him what I was doing for a living. He had lovely things to say about my drawings. It was very encouraging. To put it mildly.

And the kicker is that he's giving me an art assignment that he's going to "art-direct" with me. Comps are due before the end of September and the final in December. My soul is kinda singing right now.

Anyway, enough about me.

Iain McCaig and Brom are fantastic people.  So much fun to be around and great teachers.  It was awesome to be back in a class after being out of school for so long.  I'm not going to lie to you, I hated high school, but I LOVED college.  I loved going to class, I loved the challenge, I loved LEARNING.  Everyday there was something new to learn or discover, some new piece of wisdom to unfold.  And this workshop brought a piece of that back for me.

Everyone there was working in the art field in some capacity.  A lot of game designers and full time illustrators.  Everyone was so talented and it was really awesome to be in such an art-rich environment for 3 whole days!

The focus of the workshop was storytelling - which is right up my alley.  We took the story of the Pied Piper and basically re-wrote it as a class, designed the characters and story-boarded the beats out in three days.  Each of us was given one or two beats to draw.  Interspersed throughout were a series of demos on oil painting by Brom - I have been re-inspired to try oils, so expect to see some of that in the near future.

Above are some of the sketches from my sketchbook.  I was in the group that was designing the townspeople and I tried my hand at some ideas for the piper and his pipe, too.  

The weekend was awesome with so many cool stories about Brom and Iain's adventures in illustration.  I love stories.  And it culminated with the video of all our our beats put together with music.  We talked about which parts were weak or needed more panels, etc.  Iain's doing the extra panels himself and sending us a link to the final.  Before December, we all are going to "finish" our panels and send them to Iain who is then going to make the final video with music and titles and such and either send it to us or create a web page for it.  I'll keep you updated.  

I moved back to the hostel for the next two nights.  Went hiking near Mt Rainier on Monday.  But FIRST I had to go back to the hotel because I leftmydigitalSLRinthenightstand.  Hehem. Good thing I remembered.  Here's pictures from the "hike".  Again, they're not edited, and I take pictures with the idea that I am going to use them as reference at some point, so . . . 

It's rather hard taking pictures of yourself with a DSLR . . . 

I either got my face or the mountain - kinda . . . 

And the next day I went home.  After first having to go back to the hostel because I had left my iPad in the room.  Yep.  I promise, this was not usual for me.

Seattle has ridiculously long lines for security.  Fortunately I had less trouble with the backpack.  Still patted down.  Then because I was still EARLY, despite my fiasco with the iPad, I got a cuppa joe and sat and read my copy of Alex Alice's "Siegfried".  Again.  I love this thing so much.  I can't wait for "Valkyrie" to come out in English.  I might just cave and get the French version to tide me over.  

And then I drew some stuff.

And then I got on the plane.  And subsequently got OFF the plane because of something with the fuel tank gauge things (wait, I've heard this story before . . . ), got on ANOTHER plane after much delay, and drew some more.

The End.

At least until next week.