Anatomy Peek

What do you think? Too crusty? Too old fashioned? Too morbid?

My Funky Ink Style Continues

With all its pros and cons.

I was at the Rodin Museum yesterday because I had to return books to the library in the morning, and it's not a very long walk between the library and the Rodin. Was supposed to rain, but didn't, so I stood outside "sketching" for a while with my umbrella dangling from my shoulder bag.

I know these would look better if I just filled in the "shadow" areas somehow, (perhaps a clever discovery awaits), an area I am instead leaving blank after trying to encircle it with form shadows and silhouette edges; but I don't want to diminish my efforts with that pedestrian "wash" look (tho' it is quite pleasing, fer sure)--and besides, I'm supposed to be finding AN ORIGINAL way to make this all work.

Comments are welcome.

"I'm Sorry, We Are Out Of Nothing"

Two weeks left here, and we're both gripping. We don't want to go, but knowing we have to go makes the time we have left joyless. If go we must, then let's just go now and get it over with. I'd planned to have my Mom visiting us during these final days, and I realize how perfect that would have been; alas, it was not to be. We did have the truly wonderful pleasure of a visit from Dear Friends Candy and Larry just last week; for nearly five days we ate great, told stories, checked out some art and generally enjoyed each other's company. Good times.

Now our mood is telling us to spend the next two weeks packing, and sulking; mentally, we are ready to close up shop. But we have so much work to do before our flight leaves, it would be impossible to just give up now.

So we sulk. And feel tense.

The drawing above came from the Louvre on Monday, watching people at the little café service area just across from the bookstore. The large-ish caricature is of a waitress who I believe has the best face I've seen in France.

Name the 18th Century French Luminaries!

Here's a little pencil study from Houdon (pencil is amazing--you can erase!). It'll have to stand in for a real post.

We've been having a wonderful time working and esp. hosting friends for the last week. I will force myself to sit down and write more soon; for now you can see other recent art at tuesdayartgroup.blogspot.com.

Pete, tell me again how do you make those words light up and link?
(and the radio is playing "Hold Me Now," your best Thompson Twins cover--but not your best cover--that would be "(I'm in a)Time ZONE!")

Back on Anatomy

Some doodle-type anatomy stuff; just trying to get the flow going, stay spontaneous, keeping it real in ink.

Here's one more for you since this site has been silent for so long.

American Library in Paris

Out in the 7th Arrondissement, very near the Eiffel Tower, a few early Yankee ex-pat settlers put down stakes for an American Library. "Way out in the 7th?" Is that supposed to mean something? You probably know this already, but this city is very self-consciously segregrated by neighborhoods, or "Arrondissement"—you can provoke the same sort of laughs here by assigning a particular person or anecdote to the most apt Arrondissement as you can back in San Diego or LA by saying, "You know, they were very El Cajon," or, "So we spent the whole day driving around Burbank!" It helps in pigeon-holing and type-casting people and places. We are in the 6th, and that is somewhat like being in a fancy, happening part of town.

We spent most of Saturday sitting in the American Library, which is just what it sounds like, a non-descript little cave of a place, very like the shabby, over-crowded and under-decorated examples we live with in Southern California. Here it is a real boon. The staff say hello to you in English, and of course almost all of the books are in English, too. I wouldn't mind if they said hello in French, it is having all the books (and movies and CDs) in English that is nice. We can buy no more books, really, because we are so over-stuffed already. So it is wonderful to borrow them, and then return them.

I took advantage of our time there to read my first Elmore Leonard novel, Riding the Rap, and it was very good, especially the way I woke up the next morning and it seemed like I'd seen a very good movie the night before, not finished a very good book. Barely 300 pages, pretty big type. He only shows you the things a movie would show you, but adds in a few thoughts for his characters which give you the insights only a really good movie could. I was impressed with it as a movie. And with the spareness of the writing, although any shock from this, which I was sort of expecting just because I've read a couple of things about how precise and spare and really good Elmore Leonard's writing style is, was snuffed out because I'm in a rut or glut of very spare writers right now (Hemingway, Dick Francis, Daishell Hammet were my last three). In fact, he was sort of a let down compared to Hemingway and Hammet.

The drinks at the Bar Hemingway at the Ritz here are very good, but damned expensive, and the whole thing feels a bit like a Tommy Bahama's with booze. We spent 170, 180 Euros total on maybe six drinks and four tiny plates of tapas. But damn good drinks. I just asked the waitress, who was very nice, what she thought I should have next, and she always had an excellent follow up, though I veered from her plan once and ordered a Mojito and it was damn good, but I could see her point and then followed her advice on the next one. We met a nice couple from Pittsburgh, over here for his Fiftieth birthday on a surprise trip she planned. This was almost a month ago, the Monday night before Valentine's day.

This is becomming very journal-y.

One thing that is nice in reading the novel by Leonard is the sensation received reading a contemporary book that has a plot and yet is intelligent with very specific characters and an underlying moral force that is neither cynical nor treacle-y. A contemporary book that hinnges on plot. That specifically avoids the lyric, the writerly, the high-falutin'.

Sells well, too.

Something to Drive Ellis Crazy

I mentioned how my Internet searches are often and inexplicably interrupted by French ads, pop-ups and solicitations, many of them the sort Collette, deSade and Henry Miller would have approved, (why does a search for "Soubrette" bring up sidebar ads for French porn?). Well, one persistent pop-up would be giving Ellis (and probably many Americans) fits: "Get Your American Greencard!"

According to some of the figures I've read in the Metro, where one often sees prominent posters promising a life of low taxes and prosperity in the U.S. of A., France is allotted more Green Cards per annum than any other country in Europe, possibly the world. Is that true? I wonder if the French are hoping that the U.S. will take a few of their African and Middle Eastern immigrants, along with the purely Gallic imports—or is the demand for Green Cards coming purely from French people wanting to leave France behind? As one of the hopeful students pictured in an ad for an English language school testifies, "I speak Wall Street English!"

Watch out folks: the French are coming.

A Palaver of Pusses from Paul

That means faces.

I'm putting up some drawings from a few weeks ago because I have been without scanner for a couple months. And besides, I don't have to explain why I do anything, this is MY blog.