Page 35 - Demo

t was in the late 1970s, during the restoration/remodeling of our mid-nineteenth-century home, that I began creating this series of drawings with pen-and-ink. I%u2019ve always enjoyed this type of art, partly because of that expanding dachshund birthdaycard from so long ago, as well as my brief experiments with the media as a teenager. In college, I sometimes drew nudes in Life Drawing class with a Japanese brush and ink which, while producing much larger strokes, still basically involved black ink on white paper. There%u2019s something about the justso-ness of opaque lines with no bleed, dilution, or fade-out that appeals to me. Their lack of ambiguity is their strength.Some of the pen-and-ink drawings I drew were loosely based on real people. For example, The Scrounge, the first drawing I did in this series, was inspired by John and how he loved to find %u201cgood stuff %u201d that had been tossed aside, and bring it home for reuse. One of his great finds was a set of louvered, wooden, bi-fold doors that ended up gracing the front of our kitchen pantry. He also found an antique wood-paddled ceiling fan, which he restored and hung over the work island in our kitchen. While the well-worn, knock-off of an Eames%u2019 Lounge Chair (with ottoman) was a winner%u2014after he reupholstered and refinished it%u2014I unapologetically relegated the ugly, clunky dentist%u2019s chair to the garage until he found someone to take it off his hands. Most of his finds were great though%u2014like a set of weathered-and-worn, machine-milled limestone steps that became our front door%u2019s means of entry. They were so weighty and unwieldy, they required a hoist to both haul them away from a soon-to-bedemolished building, and then to install them at our house. In The Scrounge, the old man is contemplating something he%u2019s found in the trash can. I can almost hear his thoughts, as he wonders if it%u2019s worth keeping and bringing home to the wife, or should he just throw it back in the bin. Yes, it%u2019s certainly based on John all right.Kung Foxes, Speedy%u2019s, and Be it ever so Humble... were inspired by people I saw in Lafayette%u2014the Mars Theatre ticket seller, attendants at a parking lot behind the City Scales, and a woman on the porch of a dilapidated house on Wabash Avenue. These people are all bored, and only the animals are lively and engaged (except for one lounging cat). And yet, the ticket lady wears a nice dress and jewelry, the one-armed parking attendant enjoys feeding the pigeons, and the woman on the porch keeps her plethora of houseplants well-tended and healthy. They%u2019ve not given up. The Beach features an older woman, relaxing on a beach in front of the 1950%u2019sera Sunset Motel where she%u2019s staying, looking out to sea. She%u2019s brought her own snacks, even a bowl to hold her chips. She%u2019s trying to ignore two seagulls who feel any food on their beach belongs to them. She%u2019s doing her best to enjoy herself, but will she or the seagulls rule the day? While the woman looks like my paternal grandmother, Grandma would never, ever, have been found on a beach, especially in a two-piece bathing suit! Catalog Shopper, The Waterer, and The Campers all carry on with the basic theme of older people who are comfortable just being themselves. They know who they are, and they know what they like to do, and don%u2019t like to do. They%u2019re not trying to impress anyone%u2014perhaps they never did. I%u2019ve already mentioned that it was John who suggested I draw on Mylar drafting sheets instead of paper, because ink can be erased from them completely. He also, more than 30-years later, suggested that I add color to some of the drawings. This I did, to both The Beach and The Waterer by first scanning and digitizing them, then adding the desired colors with my computer and drawing tablet. I was happy with the way they turned out so, some day, I may add color to others in this series.