Jesseca Trainham

I met Jesseca Trainham during the Silver Age. We were both into Dario Argento and had registered as members of the Dark Discussions cinema forums. Her nom-de-post was Stay Hungry and she had some amazing, wild critiques to offer on Suspiria and Argento's Phantom of the Opera.

The single happiest time in my life was the week I spent in rural New York with Jesseca. I arrived with an ear that refused to op from the flight, a knee scraped from a spill the day before, and a finger recovering from infection. It didn't matter, because I was in a state of grace. She met me at the airport looking like a folk-rock star wearing a smile as wide as her outstretched arms.

I've never known a soul more compassionate than Jesseca, more insightful, or as voracious with curiosity. She is a seeker of knowledge who goes right to the source, never complacent to be a blind complacent follower of teachings diluted and warped by orthodoxy. Her path is a wandering one that embodies that most essential but rarely enacted endeavor of human existence: she questions. 'Quest,' after all is, the root of 'question'.

Jesseca has been many things for me including my confidant, and we have seen each other through any number of personal crises. I'm damn lucky to have her in my life.

*

This drawing has been the most challenging that I've completed so far, and it taught me at least one valuable lesson and probably more. It was done on a Strathmore drawing tablet, medium surface, 8x10 inches, using my usual 0.3 mm mechanical pencil. The page has a nice cream tinge to it compared the the bleached white of some papers, though the medium surface did not afford me the smoother shading I'm capable of.

There is a quality to her expression that I didn't manage to capture entirely from the photograph, and I've not been able to pin down just where I went astray. You can see her intelligence, her humor, and her warmth, those come through, but there's also a joy that almost looks surprised radiating from her smile, the spark in her eyes. I think it's a matter of the job I did in shading her skin, but I'm not certain. I thought that was going to be the easiest element but it surprised me in being the most difficult. You see, I had to do some juggling with the tones that altered them for the blank page. In a photograph, you have skin tones that stand apart from a fully active background that are often darker than the subject. If you are only drawing the subject, then you have to make your skin tones darker than they are in the photograph to bring them to life against a blank white field. Her skin in the drawing is now darker then the reds in the plaid of her hat, where in the photograph they are significantly darker than her skin. You cannot stay a hundred percent true to the source, you have to make choices.

This is where the invaluable lesson came in. last Monday night I thought I was done with the drawing (that last session was much shorter than expected, only two hours) thus I made a scan. That done I compared the scan to the photograph on my computer screen and found I had done too simplistic a job rendering the tones of her face and throat. I then spent the next four hours repeating a cycle of correcting, scanning, and comparing. Now...scanning for details and comparisons to the source can be a useful tool just as spraying a model or sculpt with primer can reveal flaws in your work that need rectifying, but it can also be a trap. The more I corrected (I scanned her about eight time that night) the unhappier I became with the drawing. After awhile it was becoming muddy in my eyes the way overworked colors in a painting become muddy. Here's the thing: I was trying to get a scan that looked right. My estimation of work needed was based not on the drawing as it lay on the page but based on what the scanner saw and relayed to my screen. The scan is not the drawing. If the lesson needs stating plainly, here it is – let the drawing itself, and only the drawing, dictate what it requires. I had to force myself to stop, but after two or three days I was really happy with the results.

As I said, I had expected different aspects of this to be the more difficult than actually transpired. One thing that pleases me no end is that I can magnify the image many times over and the fine details still look good. The earrings I had to leave at 'good enough” rather than perfect, but that's a lesson I've already learned (learning is one thing, becoming comfortable with it another). The links of the necklace are almost impressionistic rather than detailed, but thy look right all the same. The butterfly pendant was surprisingly quick to manifest, and reasonably accurate. I like how her hair came about. That wonderful plaid hat of hers, now, that took forever! I had to map it out panel by panel, many times erasing entirely what I had done and starting over. This kind of detail is where it helps to have a large, detailed image on your computer to check your work by. Not only can you zoom in, the image onscreen is more luminous than a printed photographed.  The work paid off as the final result is the kind of tactile quality I strive for in every drawing.  Looking at it, I can feel how warn, thick, and fuzzy the real thing must be.  Her skin is soft and smooth, the glasses frames are study and clean, her hair full-bodied.

I'm often uncertain  where to lay the border of  the subject, under the throat.  I had intended to establish the necklace itself as the lower border for this image, but once I began shading her throat the drawing insisted that I continue toward her shoulder.  That was the  right call to make.

Brick by Brick

My failure to update is itself a useful commentary on the power of blocks and how difficult it is to overcome them. I've had more than one, not just artistic. In school I had a problem with written homework. Right after high school I had a block that made my mind go blank every time I tried to write to Dana or Akiko.

This blog threatens to become a wall of text. I promised myself not to post (much) without visuals, theory being to force myself to come up with some. It's been easier to work on physical projects, and while those have moved forward there's nothing yet worth showing. I have a commission now, though (a drawing, that makes two that are priorities), and that should help, and I've picked up some Mod Podge for an experiment involving colored foil.

(Oh – this morning I saw a PBS special about restoring the art in Buddhist temples in Tibet. The original artists used paint that was colored with crushed gem stones. How luminous those colors must be! I would dearly love to see those murals in person.)

It isn't the block that's sapping my will, it's the depression. This past week it's been pulling me back down the well.

I used to know someone who couldn't grasp that she meant something to the people around her, that her sudden unexplained absences always blew holes in people's lives and hearts. She didn't mean to hurt anyone, it just wasn't real to her that she did. I'm wondering whether that might be the case with Dana too.

Anyway, it doesn't mean anything to you, the reader. What I want to communicate to you is that pain distorts vision. Depression changes the way you see the world and your relationship to it, to the people around you. When you are in pain you cannot understand the world clearly, and that creates barriers between you and the people who care about you. It takes away your strength, and it is self-feeding. Therein lies the vital warning for anyone suffering depression: the more you indulge it, the more it alters your brain chemistry to take you entire. Trust me, I know from experience and I've seen it at work in people I care about. Be vigilant. Don't indulge your sadness.  When you catch  yourself thinking about it, force yourself to stop.  If you don't, you will tip further.

Dana...neither of us did anything wrong, and neither of us has anything to be forgiven for.  Dana was afraid that I thought the worst of her, yet she refuses to be told that nothing could have been further from the truth.  She won't hear that I admire her, respect her, that I care about her, and that I'm proud of being her friend. I was then and I am now. There was never a time that I was not on her side.  I'll stand by her anywhere.   But she's not having it. It's as if her imagined condemnation is her armor and lifeline, she can't give it up. She put up a wall and there is no way of knowing whether she wants to tear it down. She won't say.

Sometimes I wonder whether she is offended by people caring about her. About half the time I think she hates me. Honestly, I don't know that she doesn't. What I do know is that she's aware that I think this, and she goes on letting me think it. I don't know if she's aware just how much it hurts.

If she's worried I won't be able to understand her, well, silence is the way to make sure I never do.

Process, #1

The first two images were scanned before I had recovered the software necessary to calibrate scans.  They are much too washed out.

at 2.5 hours

at 4.5 hours

The progress scan below was made tonight, adjusting the DPI,  brightness, and contrast.

This is my dear, beloved, cherished friend Jesseca Trainham - muse, teacher, healer, confidant fellow artist, and fellow spiritual wanderer. 

Given what I said about the elements that ahve in the past shorted out my mental process, imagine what it's taking to map out the stitching in Jesseca's hat!  It takes a lot to psych myself up for the next session.  Fortunately I have not just a printed photo but also the same photo on the computer - obviously more luminous for the screen, and it's a nice big resolution so I can zoom in.  I need to correct some stitching, and correct the cloth  past the buckle on her hat - a detail the printed photo did not yield to me an was revealed only on the computer copy.

This is a current project, on medium drawing paper, 8x10.  As you can see by comparing to the drawing of Dana Cooper, this paper does not allow the smooth shading I prefer afforded me by the cardstock.  The tradeoff is that this paper is much more durable and will hold up to more intensive shading with the harsh point of a mechanical pencil.  I can get  good contrasts with both papers, but risk  tearing the shit out of the cardstock surface!  I can also erase more cleanly on the drawing paper.  I've another tablet of drawing paper.  At this point I'm just trying out grades of paper to see what I like best.

Here is a closeup so that you can see the pencil strokes, tace how the image is developing.:

Resources

Look for your resources everywhere.  By resources I mean everything that gets you there - inspiration, raw material, anything that helps put you in the zone.  Seriously, I'm half tempted to enroll in some night school classes just to recapture the environment in which I had my greatest advances.

Ideally, you should have a retreat.  Don't scoff, that's an invaluable resource!  Some quiet place that puts you at ease from stress, whatever works for you.  A friend of mine has The Grotto, an religious idyll.  It's quite beautiful there.  Me, I have no place like that.  It's one thing having to deal with personal stressors...it's another thing to be in a situation wherein you're not being allowed to deal with anything, not given the space you need to cope or work things out.  Putting it mildly...it's not conducive to work.

Legos blocks!  I have four siblings, they have kids, their kids have kids.  That mean there are always Legos around!  Not only are they still fun to build with, they are also a nice way to frame and support physical builds of all sizes and shapes.

Noted before, I'm running out of Woodsies - those thin dowels.  I can't get them in bulk from Amazon, and there I have to pay shipping - adding two or three times the cost of a bag off the shelf at Michael's!   Stirring sticks for coffee, OTOH, are free and available just about anywhere.  I'll be going over the whole thing with putty anyway, all I need do is fill in the structure.  That empty space in the center, that's where the dining room goes.

Kind of a "no duh", but the internet really is an endless resource.  It's getting me to put my stuff out there...or rather, it's getting me to make some stuff to put out there.  Next week I'll be meeting someone to talk about a drawing.  Through the local library's online catalog I can get books on all subjects for free, or order what I need.  The two art stores in my neighborhood that carried 0.3mm lead both closed, but Amazon has it which saves a busride downtown.  My scanner is almost capturing my drawings right again, now that I've dowwnloaded software to replace the old.

It's good for bumper-sticker inspirational thinking too.  These are hitting me lately:

So.  Flash drives are good too, as long as you keep track of them.  I saved a bunch of good stuiff to flash drive recently...and promptly lost the thing.  There was a progress collage I had of a drawing of Dana that I started a few years ago. It contained nine or ten scans of the drawing, each one two hours further along.  I can't find that image anywhere now.  Shame, it was  great illustration of my process.

As mentioned in an earlier post, my scanner washes out much of my pencil shading.  I've re-installed software to manage the scans, but it's limited to adjusting brightness and contrast...the image is closer to what I've drawn but the subtleties are still not there.

Dana Cooper

This is smaller than actual size, on  8.5 x 11 cardstock.

Also as noted before, I've encountered some difficulty finishing the drawing.  I was just then trying to get back into drawing, and I made some mistakes.  One, I didn't think to use a barrier between my hand/arm and the paper, so the edges have yellowed.  Some of that I can crop, and it will be okay though it does throw off the composition: the relationship between Dana and the space surrounding her.   It's not inappropriate...I think sometimes the world does close in around her, and once that was my own fault.  I'm sorry, Dana.

The yellowing on the right edge is too heavy to be removed, and I can only hope to disguise it with heavy shading.  Then again, I was never sure what to do about a background as the only light areas of the original photograph are her skin.  It's very striking, and was my original choice, but I love the flowing shapes that frame the bottom contours of the drawing.  So, unmarked space at the bottom...but that doesn't work well for her hair.  Her hair, that's where I have trouble...it's a small photo and the shapes in her hair are too difficult for me to map out. So I'm having to roughly recreate...ahm...not a duplication of what I see but the essence of it.  Block the rest of it in as you see  on the left, get a general placement of flow, then start darkening it.  At some point I have to put away the photo and see what the drawing itself needs in order to look alive.  it's  incredibly difficult to psych myself up to this aspect of this particular drawing. it's one reason progress has been so slow, added to the other technical aspect which was discouraging.

This is on cardstock.  Another difficult drawing I'm doing is on a page from a drawing tablet.  I'm finding that I vastly prefer the cardstock for it's smoother texture which captures my shading better, but that the drawing paper is less prone to tearing when I get heavy with that fine tip.  I am needing to experiment with using wider gauges of lead for heavy shading.

You'll have noticed that the shaded area of the background looks out of place.  That's because it was shaded with a  regular #2 pencil, and is only temp work.  If necessary I'll erase it before using a mechanical pencil, but I;m hoping instead to use the mechanical to supplement the regular pencil.  It's an experiment, I'm hoping to arrive at a look that looks integral to the texture of the whole but still sets it apart slightly from the rest.
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Laurie from Nike

This is the kind of texture I'd like to develop for hair.  I like this look a lot.  No contours, pure shape!  Very dynamic, lively.  

Lori Hamilton

Similar to the roadblock I faced with hair, I got hung up on every stitch on Lori's sweater having to be exactly right.   She doesn't entirely look herself in this photo, taken by someone else.  Pro photographer, I believe she said, Lori was posing for him at the beach.  The wind was blowing the sand into her eyes!

Putty in Your Hands

Just to demonstrate that I really am working on things, here's an update with one or more pics.  All stuff I'm taking my time on, it's getting easier.  I gave up sodas this month, and am finding a little more...what is it, drive?  Or is my ability to visualize a way forward loosening up?  I'm making progress now on things that used to leave me discouraged. 

And let me just say...I fuckin' love Woodsies!

The armature above is not set to an exact scale, being rather exaggerated in proportions, but close to 1/10th.  It is also not following any of the paper models I have built for copying shapes, but then again it's only one of several attempts I'm taking at sculpting the human form, all of them from a different angle. The models are mostly male fantasy exaggerations (hey, I didn't design them!)  , some anime-based, and a few that are more realistic - my personal leaning is to the more natural, so as I choose which ones to copy I'll be modifying the proportions.  This particular sculpt is based on an anime styled drawing. 

 I'm using 22 caliber floral wire from Michael's, binding Woodsies (see the thin wooden dowels?) to the armature with copper wire.  Aleene's Quick-Dry Tacky Glue to make them, er, tacky for the clay  Premo Sculpy) to stick to.  The  core of the trunk is bulked in with foil so the body is flexible for posing.  I needed to make the legs longer as she'll be wearing spike heel, but that's a good lesson - easily solvable when I get that far.  I'm using Sarah Simblet's book Anatomy for th Artist as a reference: indispensable book, must buy myself  a copy in hardback (it's running around thirty dollars used on Amazon last I looked).

I spent a few days drawing, and the works I chose are among the harder to deal with.  That was a mistake for trying to get into the zone and stay there.   It was too easy to retreat to other projects where translating tonal shifts from my vision to my hand wasn't the work needed.  So I'm going to choose one of the easier pieces I've prepared and go with those.  Those are less personal, but will be rewarding all the same. 

Must remember to find the manual for the scanner/printer...it picks up ink sketches well enough but not fine pencil shadings.  At the moment I cannot share what I finish. 

One of those drawing challenges has a tangle of fine details that have to be mapped out.  Lucky for me I have it as a large file on my computer, because the printed copy simply is';t as luminous as I need it to be and it had me on the wrong path.  One major detail must now be corrected...or just faked.    The other is a drawing based on a wallet-sized photo that was very dark when it was new, and it ain't so new now thirty years later. When I try to map out her hair visually it makes my eyes dizzy.  So...I'm blocking it in roughly, then at some point I'll have to set the photo aside and just see what the drawing itself demands in order to look integral.  That image has other obstacles, at least one of which is my own doing in trying to get back into it. 

Want to do some pen and ink but at the moment no imaged are coming to mind.

Oil paints, I have a dual image in mind but they need figuring out.  Monochromatic, primarily, one in red and one in blue.  Not my happiest stuff.

Bet ya don't know what this is:

 Yeah, didn't think so!  maybe you'll do better with this:

Waddya think, do ya know that one?  I'm using cardstock and Woodsies for the basic shapes, and will go over them  later with epoxy putty.  There's nothing else for the details I'll have to add, plus the versatility and strength it provides.  That would have been my medium of choice all these years, I'm good with the stuff.  Sadly, it's not good with me.  Found out long ago that I'm one of a rare few who are allergic to the chemicals in it.  I'm fine as long as I wear protective gloves, but they get in the way of shaping it, either too loose or too constrictive, and I can't  I can't feel the material through them.  Worse, I can't help absent-mindedly wiping at my face, scratching at itches, etc...and what this shit does to my skin, damn.  Eyes puff out and water, mouth dries to the point of cracking and bleeding.

Here, here's an easy one.

That one I know you recognized right away.

So it's two in the morning, listless night like last night, and today was a Reverse Midas: everything I touch turns to shit, nothing to do but ride it out.  Got a book to finish and return to the library, maybe I'll wait 'til I've slept before starting in on anything.  Weekend coming, my friend may want someone to vent to or commiserate with. 


Ooooh!  I wonder if I can buy Woodsies in bulk off Amazon?   I'm almost out of all sorts of supplies, musytmake a run to Michael's soon, and the wethaer is getting hot again.

Viedeodwome

There's TMI in Attics

(If you feel awkward about getting personal, or if you happen to be a member of my family, you would do best to exit now.)

Here's another typical artists' concern (there I go again, calling myself an artist. Still don't think I've earned it yet.). Is it editing or self-censorship?

I've already engaged in it my first night out. That debut post read that I'm seeking solace for a broken heart but then I changed it to “depression”. There's a delicate balanced to be maintained. Audiences want to connect on a personal level, but there's a risk of causing them to b uncomfortable with the things that are painful or boring them by being hopelessly miserable. Thing is, one of the reasons this blog exists is as a relief valve. I also hope she'll read it at some point – 'her' being my alienated friend. That's not an easy juggle. Communication has been the biggest issue of my life. I am not broken, but I am brokenhearted.

* * * * * * * * *

When I was little I was forbidden access to the attic over the garage the longest time. I can no longer recall what fascinated me at first when I was finally allowed up. Boxes of this or that, old photos maybe. At first it was good just to gain entry to a place that had once been forbidden. That's a drive, for me...in Vallejo just outside of San Fransisco we'd lived at the edge of a desert. You couldn't see it from my backyard, as the yard ended with a rise that blocked the expanse from view. I was never allowed to climb that incline but I kept trying. I was maybe thee years old. One time I fell in the attempt and my face came down on the rake, causing a cut to my nose and nearly putting out an eye. It didn't matter how often I was told there was nothing there for me, the thing was to find out for myself.

Later I would find adult magazines up there. Playboy, Penthouse, Oui. The first thing that struck me was how innocent and playful a lot of it was. That's my first impression of sex, with the tease of primetime TV of the '70s with sitcoms teasing nudist camp plotlines or dramas like Room 222 talking about gays and discrimination...I just...didn't get the hangups. They still baffle me today. I've developed a natural love of human sexuality and a fascination for the prejudices that failed to instill themselves in me.

Why do I relate this? It's a pivotal influence. It's one of the things I would like to be known for in my work if not my self. Sexuality itself, the female body and face, yes, and a visual aesthetic...I remember a Playboy pictorial on the lingerie of the 19^th Century that was wonderful for it's baroque textures and interplay with the body. More than that, though, the values it re-enforced in me and my view of this vitally integral aspect of the human condition. Humanism, love, passion, empathy, compassion, trust. I may find my way to producing that, I may not. We'll have to see where it takes me. I will have to be careful with self-censorship as well, and know that by sharing my values I may lose some of the friends who will not want to accompany me there.

In my last year of high school, with no plan what to do with my life, I seriously considered looking for work in porn as an editor. With my body there was no consideration of performing, and I'm no good with a camera. Editing I think I'd be good at, given enough training. In time I might have directed. Not a lot of people would have back me on that call, but I should have done it. If you ever find yourself denigrating people in porn simply because they are involved in adult movies, that's who you're looking down on: just anybody, just regular people like me.

* * * * * * * * *

We each find our own voice. I've always wished that I weren't so damn literal. I remember in 1^st or 2^nd grade, we were given an assignment that writing about what we would daydream sitting on the back porch. We were also to draw that scene in crayon. I was the one who drew a picture of myself sitting on a porch.

Surely communication has to be more than that.

How do I draw the smell of a hot attic in Summer? How do I visually put across the potent memory - the heady brew of dry air, cooked dusty webs, the rich aroma of old magazines, the scents of hot skin and sweat and cum? How do I covey the sense of discovery, of...of vindication, I think I felt, in finding this celebration of humanity as a sensual treasure not to be shunned or vilified but explored and understood, and nurtured?