On Friday, Cathrine my classmate said I did well with the one minute drawing on the right. After she pointed it out, I like this one, too.
Most weeks, we start the class by drawing a series of short, spontaneous drawings, and I love them. I'm not responsible, other than trying to get the whole figure on the paper, which, as you can see, I'm not good at. I love the curves of the body, so I draw them too large and too wide, and seldom get below the knees or have a whole head, and when I do, they are disproportionately small, even squashed.
The one of the left is a 20-minute drawing. Later in the session we have a bit more time to stand back, think, and sometimes even edit. And sometimes I enjoy the longer poses, but often I start fiddling and do things I immediately regret, or like a car accident, I can even feel the regret coming as I reach out!
Of my drawings, I love the ones I drew without thinking, regardless of the length of the pose. I like the unexpected, the energy, the thrill, the fluidity in the drawings. I thrive on the not-having-to-think in class, and I even enjoy later seeing things I didn't see while I drew. Drawing and looking at my drawings are most definitely two different activities.
So what of my weaving? I am a control freak when it comes to planning my weaving. I see weaving as a series of processes, and I have a mental Gantt chart at all times. I hate anything unexpected, though the pieces rarely come off of the loom exactly as I envisioned. And I seem to thrive in the regularity and rigidity of the look.
While showing Ben this week's drawing and putting them away, I used the word "stale" to describe one. I started to wonder if the word applies to my weaving.