DAY 1 (Of Two)
My name is Jacob John and I am a professional illustration artist. I live and work in the UAE. I am writing this blog for those special people who find it necessary to communicate ideas in the drawn form in the regular course of their working day. This is also for those people who like to talk back to the world thru their drawings ! Or simply feel the satisfaction of producing some freehand drawn art!
Before I start, let me try to answer the one question that’s always on the mind of every one.
“ Can professional freehand drawing be taught to someone who has never sketched or drawn professionally before ? ”
I am sure this conversation with me will convince you that it is possible and also that if what i say makes sense to you, theres a good chance you might make a profession of it! And I am not talking about copying Mickey mouse or tracing the outline of a tree on butter paper. Well.. I am asking you to plan on eventually being able to draw anything you think up.. to be able to make your drawings talk by themselves to your clients and colleagues and anyone who ends up seeing your work !
“ Can professional freehand drawing be taught to someone who has never sketched or drawn professionally before ? ”
I am sure this conversation with me will convince you that it is possible and also that if what i say makes sense to you, theres a good chance you might make a profession of it! And I am not talking about copying Mickey mouse or tracing the outline of a tree on butter paper. Well.. I am asking you to plan on eventually being able to draw anything you think up.. to be able to make your drawings talk by themselves to your clients and colleagues and anyone who ends up seeing your work !
I hope to see you there soon. Some of you (like I said earlier ) might even end up making a full time job of it, down the line.
“So why is it that most of us find it out of our reach to draw something that looks so simple when an illustration artist draws it? Obviously there’s something that this illustration artist knows (or does..) that you don’t know (..or have overlooked?)
“So why is it that most of us find it out of our reach to draw something that looks so simple when an illustration artist draws it? Obviously there’s something that this illustration artist knows (or does..) that you don’t know (..or have overlooked?)
overlooked...? yes overlooked.. Hows that for starters ?
Or lets say.. not looked long enough?
One of the greatest secrets of executing a good freehand sketch is really looking long enough at the subject that you have planned to sketch!
There you have the 1st secret... Looking long enough
I was very determined to close the talk here, so that I could leave you with just the barebones of the matter to chew on.. But I think the a passage from a small story would be best narrated here to make the point stick perfectly. So here goes..
This is a short passage from a cowboy adventure novel I had read a long time back.. read thru it and then I will share something that compliments out lesson of the day ( namely.. looking long enough).
Ottelo Vance walked slowly along the wooden passage towards the sheriff's office, he knew that he would get one chance .. only one chance. He was sure that 'Peggoty' was waiting for him somewhere between the Bonton and the Union store. And he also knew that if he was shot at in this strange town there was no chance that even the Union army would care to pursue the matter. It was the mexican boy who had warned him as he entered the Union barracks carrying the summons letter in his hands.
''Senor, they wait for you near the bonton... be careful''
The boy said without looking at Vance , as the gunfighter dismounted the grulla.
Vance was aware that he himself looked like the devil, with the dried blood all over his hair and unshaved face. It was the grulla mustang that identified him to the mexican boy. The man who rode the grulla was a memory in the kids mind.. a memory of strength.. of raw power.. that seemed to ward off all evil.
Vance was aware that he himself looked like the devil, with the dried blood all over his hair and unshaved face. It was the grulla mustang that identified him to the mexican boy. The man who rode the grulla was a memory in the kids mind.. a memory of strength.. of raw power.. that seemed to ward off all evil.
As stood in the scantly covered shed Vance was thinking about Peggoty. Peg was known to dry gulch his opponents. It was also rumored that he carried one of those fancy guns up the sleeves, which popped two quick shots at the flick of the wrist. Good enough to kill at a distance of ten to fifteen feet.
'' As long as I can see him.. it doesn't matter how many guns he wears.. just.. as long as I see him before he sees me ..''
Thought Vance.
'' As long as I can see him.. it doesn't matter how many guns he wears.. just.. as long as I see him before he sees me ..''
Thought Vance.
Standing close to the Adobo wall, the heat was unbearable, but at least he was not a target from any direction. At a distance Vance saw the window of the makeshift saloon that was swaying in the mid noon breeze. The interiors would have to be dark and the possibility of making out the layout inside was impossible ..him being in the blazing brightness outdoors.. and if he entered not knowing where his target was .. that would be suicide..
He had the option of going straight to the sheriff and presenting himself for the summons. But he still had to pass the swinging doors of the saloon to get to there.. in any case he had to settle this.. so it had to be now.
In the simmering heat of the unforgiving mexican sun, Vance stood.. looking at the flapping window and measured exactly sixteen steps in his mind .. to get upto that flapping canvas window..and then another five towards the swinging door entrance to the tent.. or was it six..?
'' Will think about that later.. need to get to the window and get a good look first.. that will decide if I get as far as the door..'' He muttered to himself.
'' Will think about that later.. need to get to the window and get a good look first.. that will decide if I get as far as the door..'' He muttered to himself.
He undid the thongs on both his sixshooters and started walking in a straight line towards the tent.. as he walked he was concious of windows closing all around him and muffled words from people arround the premises.. all this he experienced in a subconcious way because as he walked with his eyes tight shut he was counting his paces and keeping a steady gait.. as he counted sixteen he opened his eyes and looked into the window.. the canvas flap flew up and he saw the figure of a fat man sitting away from the crowd towards the left.. a large smith and wesson kept on his table, its mouth facing the door.. all this he saw in a sweeping glance ..not staying on anything long enough to break the sweep of his eyes.. and then he was at the Door.
He stayed at the door for a few moments .. enough to make the tension unbearable for his enemy. Then he was in.. without touching the swinging doors he rolled into the saloon from under it.. and as he came to his feet he was up and facing Pegotty. The fat man looked like someone had pulled his boot off from under him. He glared at Vance not sure about the next move.
Peg had his right hand on the table and his left hand hung limp by his side. The way Vance had made his entry was at first a little comical , but the comic effect wore off soon enough as the gents inside began to slowly move to the corners .. a ricocheting bullet could bring horrible wounds comparable to being scalped by the most enthusiastic indian braves .. some of the men slowly drifted outside.
'' Hello Vance.. been a long time ol boy '' Said Peg, with a facial contortion which seemed like an awful attempt at smiling.
'' .. come over and have a drink for ol times sakes ''.
Vance knew by now that the sleeve gun was in the hand that hung by the side. Peg started an elaborate ceremony of getting up and away from the gun on the table , he had no gun belt and no visible weapon on him.. the atmosphere in the saloon suddenly relaxed. Vance had a notion about what was coming next. Peg slowly got up smiled again.. waddled up to the bar smiled again and picked up an unopened bottle of whisky and with his right hand tossed the bottle good naturedly at Vance.
''this one's on the house.. give us two glasses boys... ..'' laughed Peg, his eyes held no laughter..
Vance caught the bottle left handed.. his eyes didnt move from the Outline of the fat man.. who was now lifting his left hand as if in slow motion. the shot was loud and it ripped the air above Vance who was already on his left knee and with his right leg spread in front for balance drew and fired. The gun roared like a freight train going over a bridge.
The fat man was still smiling as he looked at his dysfunctional hands .. he looked puzzled as he slowly sat down. He seemed unable to breath and coughed up blood as he tried to get up again. The puzzled look slowly vanished from his face and he lay still. The three small holes in his breast pocket were scarcely separable. it looked like a small cut on the fabric. Slowly crimson was beginning to spread under the neat cut.
Friends, this short was just to explain the fact that as you get better ''the looking long enough'' becomes shorter and shorter , untill even with a quick glance you can say " that was long enough for me''!
