Guess Who's Painting?

I finally gave in and tried acrylics again. I used them in high school, but I've never really enjoyed painting as much as drawing with charcoal or pastels. I like getting my hands messy when I'm drawing, I feel like I'm more connected with what I'm doing - using a brush feels so different. Plus, painting takes planning, and if you know me at all, you know that planning ahead when I'm sketching (or cooking) isn't my favorite thing to do.

I bought a cheap set of acrylics a few weeks ago. My mom suggested trying acrylics and pastels together, so I thought it could be a fun challenge. Because if I didn't like the acrylic underpainting, I could just cover the whole thing in pastels and be done with it.

I decided to try Crouching Woman. I've done this figure so many times - I wanted something I was already comfortable with since the paint was already going to be challenging. I did a quick, rough sketch with charcoal so the proportions and angles would already be laid out. I could have underpainted the whole thing, but I didn't.

I started by laying out my highlights.

Then the shadows and mid-tones (Is that the right term? I have no idea...)

 I know the lighting is bad (my living room is a cave), but here is the finished picture next to a picture of the actual statue:

It's a little rough with the highlights, I didn't blend the colors at all since I don't usually like to with pastels. But for a first try with acrylics, I had a lot of fun.

So of course I wanted to do another one.

Woohoo! I didn't even sketch this one with charcoal, I just started with a flat blue and went to town. I realize that trying to add highlights at the end doesn't really work, but that's okay, I'm learning. I remembered the reason I'm not crazy about acrylics - they dry so quickly, there's really no hope for blending on the paper, but I like how these turned out.

I think I'll add some pastels over the paint next time and see what happens.


xo

On Comfort in Chaos

Confession: I'm a quote-collector. I love reading quotes and songs and prayers from other people because I can always find one to describe how I feel at any given moment - usually more eloquently than I could express it myself. My best friend and I started sharing a document of quotes a long time ago which has now grown a bit out of control. In college, I had post-its all over my desk with quotes I had found - I suppose I'm a bit of an old soul because it took me a while to realize I could keep them electronically instead of sticking them all over creation.

If you read the paragraph I posted yesterday about transitions, or if you know me at all, you already know that I'm in a transition-phase in my life. I thought this would end when I finished my "first year out of college," but alas, here I am and I'm still in transit.

I realize that we never really stop transitioning. There's always somewhere to go and something to learn. I don't ever want to reach a point where I've "arrived" and can't grow any more. Life happens when we're stretched and pushed past our limits and out of our comfort zone. Sure, it's scary, but anything less would be dreadfully boring, and I don't want to live a boring life. I'd rather be uncertain and a little nervous but challenged and surprised at how far I've come when I look back.

This philosophy has been drilled into my head and my heart for as long as I can remember. My dad always reminds me that even when things are hard, I'm doing well because I'm growing. It's become a joke in our family that we're always "doing so well," but I think there's truth in it - it just depends on our perspective. When we're going through challenges and transitions and pain, we can't recoil and hide from it because then we're running away from our potential. I'd rather put on my big girl pants and face whatever is happening so I can learn as much as possible.

Of course, this is much easier said than done. I know myself well enough to be able to admit that yes, I have moments where I want to curl up and hide from the world (don't we all?), but that can't be a permanent state of being. I don't want to be timid. I don't want to stay inside my comfortable bubble and miss out on life at the edge. We all have that natural hesitation when it comes to facing challenges and pain, but pushing through can only make us stronger and I think that's what God wants for us. It's not that He likes watching us struggle, but He knows the rewards are so much greater when we're challenged - He knows our potential and wants us to realize it too. And in all that struggle, we seek Him more fiercely and are able to see His power (2 Corinthians 12:9-10....amen) and love in our lives. So if I have to choose between my comfort zone with lukewarm love or life on the edge-of-who-knows-what with God's love and strength...I'm sure you know which one I'd choose.

So, back to quotes. I looked through my quote document (I should think of a better name for it) this morning and pulled some that jumped out at me and, spoiler alert, they're all about transitions and challenging oneself. Even if you don't feel like you're going through a "phase" like I am, remember that we always have chances to push ourselves, even if they're little ones. But take them! Try something new and see what life is like on the edge.

I'm also including some drawings from earlier this week - I've found that sketching these images has been my form of retreating into safe territory for a little while (introvert alert) before before facing the world again.

Adventure can expose your deepest thoughts about yourself. You might find out that you’re not as brave as you thought you were. Or, perhaps, just the opposite, that you’re much braver than you ever imagined. Or, most likely, that you’re both brave and not brave. And it’s ok. You’re still standing. You might come to realize that you are incredibly hard on yourself. Far harder than necessary. You might come to realize that you always give yourself an out or an excuse and don’t take responsibility for your life and that’s got to change. You might find out that you have no idea how to really be with yourself. You have no idea how you really feel, what you really want. And, you might also find out what has been the greatest desire of your soul all along. What has always been down there and needed some breathing room to bloom. 

[Leeana Tankersley]

My mom gave me the cutest set of conte crayons this weekend - quick sketches look pretty cool in sepia tones

All the variety, all the charm, all the beauty of life is made up of light and shadow. 

[Leo Tolstoy]

Be daring, be different, be impractical, be anything that will assert integrity of purpose and imaginative vision against the play-it-safers, the creatures of the commonplace, the slaves of the ordinary.

[Cecil Beaton]

The original sculpture is Danaïd by Rodin

I have come to realize that life is actually so much more about the process. Entering into the process is nearly always a mess. We will never be able to do things perfectly and glamorously all the time. What we’re talking about here is walking into the mess and being gentle with ourselves as we do so. That’s the miracle...It’s about walking with ourselves into imperfection and, in the face of fear, participating in life. It’s called being brave. 

[Leeana Tankersley]

 

Her eyes are fixed on the floor, but I am sure they do not see it—her sight seems turned in, gone down into her heart: she is looking at what she can remember, I believe; not at what is really present. [Jane Eyre]

Random Tuesday

Get married in Paris. Yes. (via Cup of Jo)

Choose to be on your own team (Gypsy Ink)

Can I be friends with Victoria Beckham? (via Go Fug Yourself)


3 Tips for Living Transitions Well (Darling Magazine)

Life right now: it’s a funny time. Most would call it a “transition period,” but I just want to call it awkward. Or achy, or uncomfortable, or uncertain. This season is a limbo between what was settled and what will be settled. I am waiting for pieces to drift into place, and am wondering how to thrive while still surrendering to the inevitable chaos of change...Transitions are this way. Often all we want is to get out of them, and fast. We want to know what’s ahead, then grin-and-bear until it’s over. Yet the only remedy for a transition is living through it.

And while we're at it, Ecclesiastes 3:

There is a time for everything,
    and a season for every activity under the heavens:

²     a time to be born and a time to die,
    a time to plant and a time to uproot,
³     a time to kill and a time to heal,
    a time to tear down and a time to build,
⁴     a time to weep and a time to laugh,
    a time to mourn and a time to dance,
⁵     a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
    a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,
⁶     a time to search and a time to give up,
    a time to keep and a time to throw away,
⁷     a time to tear and a time to mend,
    a time to be silent and a time to speak,
⁸     a time to love and a time to hate,
    a time for war and a time for peace.

And finally, here are a few drawings I've done recently - I'm back  to charcoal.

Look familiar? Misery by Jules Desbois

Another favorite, The Embrace by Picasso

Vertumnus and Pomona by Camille Claudel

 

  

Life right now: it’s a funny time. Most would call it a “transition period,” but I just want to call it awkward. Or achy, or uncomfortable, or uncertain. This season is a limbo between what was settled and what will be settled. I am waiting for pieces to drift into place, and am wondering how to thrive while still surrendering to the inevitable chaos of change. - See more at: http://darlingmagazine.org/untethered-3-tips-for-living-transitions-well/#sthash.6yN1LsXN.dpuf

Life right now: it’s a funny time. Most would call it a “transition period,” but I just want to call it awkward. Or achy, or uncomfortable, or uncertain. This season is a limbo between what was settled and what will be settled. I am waiting for pieces to drift into place, and am wondering how to thrive while still surrendering to the inevitable chaos of change. - See more at: http://darlingmagazine.org/untethered-3-tips-for-living-transitions-well/#sthash.6yN1LsXN.dpuf

Life right now: it’s a funny time. Most would call it a “transition period,” but I just want to call it awkward. Or achy, or uncomfortable, or uncertain. This season is a limbo between what was settled and what will be settled. I am waiting for pieces to drift into place, and am wondering how to thrive while still surrendering to the inevitable chaos of change. - See more at: http://darlingmagazine.org/untethered-3-tips-for-living-transitions-well/#sthash.6yN1LsXN.dpuf

Life right now: it’s a funny time. Most would call it a “transition period,” but I just want to call it awkward. Or achy, or uncomfortable, or uncertain. This season is a limbo between what was settled and what will be settled. I am waiting for pieces to drift into place, and am wondering how to thrive while still surrendering to the inevitable chaos of change. - See more at: http://darlingmagazine.org/untethered-3-tips-for-living-transitions-well/#sthash.6yN1LsXN.dpuf

Life right now: it’s a funny time. Most would call it a “transition period,” but I just want to call it awkward. Or achy, or uncomfortable, or uncertain. This season is a limbo between what was settled and what will be settled. I am waiting for pieces to drift into place, and am wondering how to thrive while still surrendering to the inevitable chaos of change. - See more at: http://darlingmagazine.org/untethered-3-tips-for-living-transitions-well/#sthash.6yN1LsXN.dpuf

Life right now: it’s a funny time. Most would call it a “transition period,” but I just want to call it awkward. Or achy, or uncomfortable, or uncertain. This season is a limbo between what was settled and what will be settled. I am waiting for pieces to drift into place, and am wondering how to thrive while still surrendering to the inevitable chaos of change. - See more at: http://darlingmagazine.org/untethered-3-tips-for-living-transitions-well/#sthash.6yN1LsXN.dpuf

The amazing thing about life’s come aparts is that if we’ll keep our eyes open, we just might emerge a truer version of ourselves. - See more at: http://www.gypsyink.com/2013/08/come-aparts-come-togethers/#sthash.VERlNaZI.dpuf

The amazing thing about life’s come aparts is that if we’ll keep our eyes open, we just might emerge a truer version of ourselves. - See more at: http://www.gypsyink.com/2013/08/come-aparts-come-togethers/#sthash.CfCPLflD.dpuf

The amazing thing about life’s come aparts is that if we’ll keep our eyes open, we just might emerge a truer version of ourselves. - See more at: http://www.gypsyink.com/2013/08/come-aparts-come-togethers/#sthash.CfCPLflD.dpuf

The amazing thing about life’s come aparts is that if we’ll keep our eyes open, we just might emerge a truer version of ourselves. - See more at: http://www.gypsyink.com/2013/08/come-aparts-come-togethers/#sthash.CfCPLflD.dpuf

Randoms.

Happy Tuesday sunshine, here is what my last week looked like:

Dinners with friends. Rach left this weekend to start her second (!) year of optometry school. She's growing up so fast.

Siah was my roommate last week - she's wonderful company. Her favorite activities include sitting on Trader Joe's bags, drinking out of (my) water glasses, and helping me make the bed. Dislikes? Closed doors, anyone who is sleeping when she's hungry, and sitting like a normal cat.

I finished Beautiful Ruins this week - I had seen recommendations for it on other blogs and wasn't really sure what to expect. I loved the cover right away...so there's that. Then I found it in a used bookstore and figured I might as well try it - I love any excuse to buy used books. I really enjoyed it though. The format was a little like The Help where each chapter switches to another character's perspective, except in Beautiful Ruins it also goes back and forth in time to pull the story together. Not in a jarring way. I'm not explaining this well, am I? Whatever. It was good - one of those comforting books you read during the summer, you know?

One of my friends had asked me to do some drawings for her. I really like doing these quick sketches on book pages because it doesn't feel as permanent. Like, if I wanted to throw it away, I wouldn't be wasting good drawing paper. Plus the words in the background are more interesting than a white blank page (I couldn't resist).

I'll always love drawing Rodin sculptures (okay, that fourth one is Picasso). I could draw the same one a hundred times and every drawing would look different. Granted, I don't draw them perfectly each time, so you could say that my mistakes just vary, but I like them that way. Anyway, here is the series I did for Laura.

The Little Prince obsession continues...

I realized this weekend that I own five copies of this book. One is on loan to a friend, one is in French (I've translated it for various classes), one is part of a collection of stories by Saint-Ex, and the other two belonged to my grandmother. I'm glad she shared my love (okay, obsession) for The Little Prince. Everyone should read it. It's a lovely story. I mean, how can you not love him when he explains that grown ups just don't understand the world like children do? And he loves his rose. And sunsets. And the lamplighter. Okay I could do this for days, just go read it. Or borrow one of my copies.


In other news:

Look at this painting - don't you love it?? [Cindy Greene Paints]

You're beautiful. [Darling Magazine]

My favorite shade of green [Knit Love, Knit Blue]

Unique world maps? Check. [via Rachel Held Evans]

Silence is powerful. [via Cup of Jo]



xoxo

Welcome back

Oh, hello. I'm back from vacation and still recovering from lack of sleep, so forgive me if I seem a little loopy.

I took a week off work to go visit my people in other parts of California. Parents, old roommates, best friend, twin, parents again, strangers - it was a little hectic, but I had so much fun. It's kind of a joke in our family that we're not great with transitions, and vacation transitions are difficult to say the least. But since I wasn't any one place for more than two or three days, I think it helped me stay on my toes rather than get into a routine. So now that I'm back, let's look at some pictures!

My dad and I are a bit obsessed with used bookstores. He took me to Gatsby Books in Long Beach when I was there last week. It is very organized but still maintains that cluttered-bookstore vibe. And of course there's a cat, so I mean, what's not to love? I may have gotten another copy of Le Petit Prince...you can never have too many.

 One of my favorite things to do while I'm at home is to go for a morning run on the beach. I love the ocean, especially in the morning when it's still quiet. The only people out are the locals and the surfers. No shoes and some Bon Iver or Phil Wickham, and I'm a happy camper. I don't really care that the water is freezing or that I have to constantly watch where I step because who knows what's in the sand. The ocean has always been one of the places where I feel closest to God. Refuge.

After spending a day at my parents' house, I went up to Northern California with one of my friends to visit one of my old roommates. We spent most of the first day in San Francisco then went out to Santa Rosa. We had been to San Fran together a couple years ago, so I wasn't set on doing touristy things again. While we were delayed in the airport (don't get me started) I looked up a museum in the city with some Rodin sculptures (I must have a radar for these things), so we got lunch and went there.

Lunch was an adventure. My goal was barbeque and we ended up at a little Chinese restaurant. Nailed it. Still yummy though, and I introduced my friends to dry-sauteed string beans - a Greene family favorite.

Yes, there are chickens in the window behind us

The Legion of Honor wasn't specifically a Rodin museum, but it had a few rooms with some of his sculptures - more than I expected. It was fun to tell my friends about some of the pieces and the stories behind them, like The Three Shades, The Gates of Hell, and the Burghers of Calais. Not that I'm an expert, but I picked up a few things while I was in Paris.

The Three Shades

Rodin's The Thinker is in the museum courtyard, so of course we had to stop and document him. The picture of me on the left is in Paris, the right is in San Francisco, a year apart. Yes, I realize I'm wearing almost the exact same outfit. At least Traveling Hil is consistent.

Okay, the sunglasses are the same, but that's it, I promise.

We went to Ghirardelli square and split a sundae - it was gone in two minutes, so good.

Shocker, there was fog on the bay.

The next day we went to Healdsburg (and another bookstore, oops) and then sat by the Russian River to eat lunch.

When I got home from Santa Rosa, my best friend and I drove up to see my twin sister in Santa Barbara. It was a mellow trip but so good to catch up with the two of them. Mel is in the midst of wedding planning - goodness, it sounds overwhelming!

The bean and bear - 1.18.14

It's definitely an adjustment coming back to work and routine, but it hasn't been too stressful. I can't believe how fast this summer has gone by!

Also, introversion quotes.

xoxo

Create

It's been a hectic couple of weeks in my neck of the woods. I've had to be an extrovert at work, which is so incredibly draining after six days of people, people, people! But thankfully, things are calming down and I'm returning to my quiet corners. 

My roommate is out of the country for the month, so home is extra quiet these days. This week, instead of turning on the tv when I sit to eat dinner, I've been reading Wild (ohmygosh read it) and listening to music (Damien Rice/Amos Lee/Civil Wars Pandora, all are excellent). Then I've been giving myself the rest of the evening to sketch. I read an article once about a study on stress levels and television. They found that stress levels didn't decrease after watching television, but stayed the same. So according to science, sitting down to "relax and watch tv" doesn't always have the effect we hope for. Interesting, huh?

I finished a drawing for one of my friends this week (photos to come!), and I've been working on smaller-scale drawings in between. I love working on huge paper, but it's not always as practical as a 11x14 sketchbook. 


Yes, we've seen this one before, but I drew it again, this time smaller and in different colors. I love the dust from the pastels, but it's always strange how flat the paper actually is once I shake it all off...outside, of course.

Finished and sprayed (the fixative I'm using darkens some of my colors...ugh)

Protective, isn't she?

The truly creative mind in any field is no more than this: A human creature born abnormally, inhumanly sensitive. To him... a touch is a blow, a sound is a noise, a misfortune is a tragedy, a joy is an ecstasy, a friend is a lover, a lover is a god, and failure is death. Add to this cruelly delicate organism the overpowering necessity to create, create, create -- so that without the creating of music or poetry or books or buildings or something of meaning, his very breath is cut off from him. He must create, must pour out creation. By some strange, unknown, inward urgency he is not really alive unless he is creating. [Pearl S. Buck]

This sculpture was also from the Rodin museum: Eve, 1881, bronze. The photo I took has a lot of glare because of the angle, so it's a tough one to draw, but it was still good practice. A bit rough, but it's about the process, right Leeana?

Trusting the process means tolerating imperfection. [Leeana Tankersley]

I've done this one before too, but not for a while. I needed something familiar and relatively simple, and hands are fun for me.

That is the great art of life, a mysterious collage of unexpected elements. Even today, we are putting down our layers, one beside another, creating and recreating ourselves. He is making everything beautiful in its time. While we wait, we must breathe and heal and grieve and become. We don’t see the beauty immediately, but as we look back, we find the art in and through it all. [Found Art, LeeanaTankersley]

xoxo