For awhile now, one of my priorities has been greater harmony. While every composition has its areas of primary focus, all its elements should also work together as a cohesive whole- None should detract. Contrast draws the eye most, and so most distractions that become apparent as I refine my drawings are simply areas where contrast is too great. Once unwanted contrasts are reduced, they recede into their context. I spend a sizeable percentage of most drawings’ working time eliminating distractions, smoothing too-abrupt transitions.
I’m detail-oriented, thorough- Sometimes, too much so. When I’m tightly focused on making minute adjustments to a very small area of a drawing, it can be easy to momentarily lose sight of the impact those changes will have on the composition as a whole. Reduce contrasts too much, and a drawing’s strengths can be dulled, their impact lost. Balancing contrast and harmony is another of those ongoing challenges that seems central to the kind of art I make. And hopefully, one I’m continuing to get better at.
2.9.2006
I’ve always loved landscapes with karst-like formations rising from mist…
Here's a detail from Remnant Of A Dream, a work in progress.
Today, this reminder: When it’s taking too long, when it’s not working- Let my hands go. Throw something at it. The result will likely be a better direction than what I was trying for.
Five hours’ work on Hidden In A Dream- Another, broken wall, a waterfall, and a tree. Familiar elements, and it’s easy to fall into the trap of a predictable composition, a halfhearted excuse for a tree- But easy, too, to recognize when this or that element isn’t good enough. Took a number of revisions before the tree seemed random enough- Another trial and error process that wouldn’t have been possible in ink. Each day’s goal: Take whatever I do a step beyond what I’ve done before.
3.27.2006
The Lost Episodes, Scene 1
Here’s an in-progress scan of a recent project never completed.
A session or two later, I began to regret a couple choices I’d made, realized the resulting direction wasn’t working, and wasn’t gonna- So I chalked this one up to learning experience.
Unless I’m preparing a demonstration, I don’t regularly record my drawings’ progress- But I’m glad I took the time to scan this one.
7.22.2006
Stonefall
Paths often find their way into my drawings- And over the years, I've created paths elsewhere as well. Here's a look at an ongoing project I began in the summer of 2005.
When I began removing stones from what I had assumed was a fallen wall, I found that it had, in fact, never been a wall at all- The stones were never stacked, just gathered and deposited in a low stonerow. N
ot, perhaps, high enough to justify a gate- But I like gates, so I made one here.
When my partner first visited the site, she commented that the stonerow seems a river of stones flowing down the slope, the upper wall of the gate a fall- Hence, the name. It's a good place to pass through, and a good place to pause.
7.25.2006
Here's a scan of a work in progress. Sometimes, when I'm not confident about what to do next with a drawing, I'll set it aside, work on something else for awhile. Haven't always worked this way- Blew a lot of promising drawings, learned better.
With this drawing, it's been quite a while. Every now and then, I take it out, look at it, and see what else I can see here. I've wondered if there was once, might still be a bridge, and today I think I may have glimpsed the ghost of one...
Sometimes, too, when I'm not sure what to do next, it's because the drawing is done, and I just haven't realized that yet. I like to think I'm continuing to get better at recognizing that point when a drawing is as good as it's gonna get. Maybe this one has; maybe I"ve found all there is to find here. But I haven't stopped looking just yet.
My work continues to change, evolve- Hopefully, always will. Since charcoal has become my primary medium,
I’ve noticed that more and more of my drawings’ beginnings are just that: Beginnings. The first passages often
aren’t even part of the finished drawing. Very unlike much of my earlier work, where an inked element usually happened first, and remained central.
Today I added an inked bridge to a spiky little island I’d drawn yesterday. Seemed a promising direction, but I didn’t like the look of the bridge, or the ink. Blacked out the elements that didn’t seem to work, which included almost everything. Happily, the 19” x 24” Bristol I use is big enough to allow most drawings to grow at least some in any direction. A couple elements at the right of the drawing still looked promising, so I began developing them, found my way to a waterfall I like a lot.
Passage is done. An utterly unoriginal title, but it seems appropriate. This drawing will likely become the first of a series. Not my first gorge drawing, by any means- But this one seems another step up, and a good drawing to begin a series of that name.
My take on my own work is inconsistent, always subject to change. Ideally, of course, the current project should always seem my best work to date, and often does- Though more often than I’d like, the end result fails to fulfill enough of what seemed a drawing’s promise to satisfy me. Again, probably as it should be. But at the moment, at least, Passage seems the strongest drawing I’ve done since I began working primarily in charcoal. Tomorrow,
I may feel differently. But that doesn’t mean I was wrong today.
I will not fear failure. If I’m not working near the limits of my abilities, near the edge of failure, I’m probably not growing much, either. If I blow a promising drawing, as I did tonight- So what? It’s nothing to get upset about. There will be many, many more drawings. And the next will be better than the last.
2.7.2006
An afternoon spent working on the current drawing- Not a lot of fun, not a lot of progress. What I’ve got seems okay, maybe good- But also less, and much less promising, than what I had yesterday. Often lately, I’ve made bad choices, and worked the life out of a drawing. Made a wrong turn, and just kept going…
Tonight, rather than continue with this one, I decided to start a new drawing. It’s gone well, and been fun, too- Always a good thing. So it seems I made the right choice.
Seems clear, tonight, what this time is about: It’s not simply about learning to do more with charcoal. It’s about learning to stop doing too much.
An afternoon and evening spent working on the drawing I began last night. Trying to remember:
Don’t overwork. Be selective about revisions. Ask myself, Does this element work? Work with its context?
If so, those are two good reasons to leave it alone. I almost always think I can make this or that better, and often I can- But much too often, I end up losing what I had, and ending up with less. I’m happy with
what I got today. But I could have gotten it more quickly and efficiently, with less time and effort.
Three hours’ drawing: More work on the formation to the right.. I’ve redrawn it several times, and more than once, I found myself wishing I’d let be the first time around. But if I had, the walkway and steps wouldn’t have come to be, either. And they’re cool.
Another five hours’ work on Hidden In A Dream. The older wall wasn’t working with the newer, and the
newer is stronger- So tonight I reworked the older section. This has happened a lot lately. Drawing, redrawing, redrawing… Keeping elements consistent and cohesive has been a challenge. Partly, I think, because I’m learning something most days- And that learning curve seems apparent within the course of most recent projects. I need to streamline the process, make better choices, work more efficiently and productively- But I also need to keep taking chances, reaching for things I can’t grasp yet. Another goal: Find that balance, maintain it.
2.16.2006
Even though Charcoal and Graphite have both have played a large part in my work for many years, I feel as though I’m still just scratching the surface of what’s possible by combining these media- There’s always so much more to be discovered, to be learned. One of my daily goals is simply to do something I couldn’t do yesterday. Some days, I find I’ve reached for more than I can grasp at the moment, and there seems little to show for the hours but what I’ve learned- But that’s as it should be, I think. If I’m not failing some, I’m probably not growing much, either.
And some days, too, I finish a drawing that seems to embody much I’ve been reaching for lately. Those are satisfying days, and Hidden In A Dream is one of those drawings.
2.17.2006
Three hours’ drawing. It’s been four days since I last worked on Remnant Of A Dream, and the nearest karst still seems unfinished, a base for some crowning architectural element. I’ve tried a couple towers; neither has seemed promising- Or likely to be much fun, either. So- When it’s not working, throw something at it. At times like this, I’m trying to dismiss all but the most basic of my preconceptions about what the drawing seems to need. I’m trying to get out of the way, let my hands go- Let something happen, and see where that leads.
I can’t simply make what I want happen, because at this point, I only know what I want in the broadest sense.
I have to allow it to happen- While, in this case, maintaining just enough control to protect the adjacent, finished passages of the drawing. It’s a balancing act, like playing with feedback- But good things happen at the edge of control. Spontaneous things, fresh directions. Of course, some don’t work; and some that seem promising exceed my reach, escape my grasp. But often, as tonight, the results are stronger than I could likely have achieved any other way.
Today, the bridge looks fine- And Morning Comes To Night’s Gates is done.
3.9.2006
Tonight was one of those nights when I probably shouldn’t have tried to work. Each element I tried seemed formulaic, little more than filler. And the drawing had taken on that cut-and-pasted look- Foreground too dark, background too bright. As I have many times, I began this drawing with a central, inked element, and developed the rest of the drawing around that element. Or at least, I tried to- And initially, that seemed to be working well.
But I remember now why I grew dissatisfied with that approach. This drawing likely suffered from bad decisions, too- Adding the walls to the right may have been a wrong turn. But mostly, I think this drawing has served as a reminder why there doesn’t usually seem much point in revisiting a way I no longer work: My heart’s not in it anymore, and the results will reflect this. Wish I’d understood that before I began this drawing. But maybe
I had to look back to gain that perspective.
Seems that so much of what I’m trying to learn these days is about what I need to stop doing. I need to recognize those times when I’m about to overwork; when I need to end a session- I need to recognize bad decisions before I commit to them. I don’t want to ever be able to see further than the next bend in the road. But I do need to get better at choosing which forks I follow.
This may be a ruin, a sculpture, or both- Or something that hasn’t yet become apparent. What does seem clear, though: This is what the drawing’s needed. This fits. I don’t know what it is yet- But then, that’s part of the fun. I don’t want to know too much. I don’t want everything cut and dried, carefully planned, predictably executed. I want to stay near the edge of what I know, what I can do, what I can control.
It’s not an easy, comfortable place. But the best things happen there- Can’t, in fact, happen anywhere else. That edge is the only way to
new ground. To exploration, discovery, learning, growth. And for me, those things are at the heart of all that’s exciting and satisfying about making art.
3.2.2006
Four hours’ work on Morning Comes To Night’s Gates: The foot of the mountain’s face is coming into focus.
I wasn’t happy with the approaches I’d tried there, and that area of the paper was beyond cleanup with kneaded eraser, so I attacked it with a sharpened pencil eraser. As often happens when I loosen up, let my hands go, throw something at a problem area, the results were more promising than what I’d been trying to make happen. The remaining ghosts of previous efforts, abandoned directions- marks, tones, textures I couldn’t easily scrub away- became ‘found’ shapes, faint highlights and shadows that suggested new possibilities. The trick, as always, is to develop and refine them to their potential, while avoiding overworking. I almost always think I can make this or that just a little better. But sometimes, just one more mark is too many…
A small, tightly rendered bridge, a waterfall, and what I’d done today seemed enough. The bridge seems skewed slightly- Drawing on an inclined worksurface, even simple architectural elements’ perspectives still slide sideways on me sometimes. I’m not sure- It’s late, and at the end of the day, my own perspectives often aren’t trustworthy. Tomorrow, we’ll see. Regardless, it’s a good bridge, and a good day’s work.
3.14.2006
Remnant Of A Dream is another of those projects whose beginnings are no longer apparent in the finished drawing. Over the past few months, this has happened often, and consistently enough to seem a notable change from the way I’d been working for awhile.
Initially, I considered this simply a result of working less with ink, and more with charcoal. I can revise, refine more in charcoal; and so I do. Working primarily in charcoal has also steepened my learning curve- or at least, I hope it has- And this has had its effect as well. For each drawing I’ve completed this winter, I’ve discarded three or four, including several that represented many hours of work. And often, something I’ve learned while working on a given drawing has necessitated revising or cutting an earlier element.
It’s not that most drawings’ beginnings are difficult- Just the opposite, really. Beginning a new drawing is fun.
A clean sheet of paper, endless possibilities awaiting exploration, discovery… No direction has been established, there’s no investment of time and effort to protect, as with a project already underway- All very freeing. If I’m not feeling at my best, and not confident I can sustain the level of work I’ve done so far in a given project, beginning a new drawing is almost always a more productive way to go.
Sometimes, it takes a while to warm up, hit my stride. Usually, though, the quality of the initial work is good- Sometimes, it’s better than what may follow. But what follows next often doesn’t follow directly, doesn’t continue along a predictable path. I’ve struggled with this some. I want as much of my process as possible to be one of ongoing exploration and discovery, but I want to continue to learn to work more efficiently, too- And revising or discarding earlier elements because they no longer work with what followed bothers me. But no matter how much I like any given element, each must serve the drawing as a whole. I have to consider the composition with an editor’s eye, and be willing to change or cut what doesn’t work.
Today, I remembered this, too: More than one writer whose fiction I admire has said that a story doesn’t
begin to come to life until it’s taken that first unexpected turn. At this point, at least, that seems true of my work as well.
I’ll continue to learn to work more efficiently, more productively. But I’ll always welcome those unexpected turns.
3.15.2006
It’s been awhile since I’ve written much about my drawings. But lately, I’ve been making more notes, longer journal entries about the work I’ve done most days- Usually, less about the images themselves than about process. I enjoy learning about other artists’ ways of working; no matter the media, usually something translates, resonates- And hopefully, something of my approach may be of benefit to others as well.
Writing about how I make art is sometimes more of a challenge than I remember or expect. When I’m working, I’m focused on results, rather than how I’m getting them- What tools I’m using, how I’m using them. Discussing technique in a way that’s complete and clear enough to be informative requires that I review each step of a given process- I have to learn more about what I’ve done before I can describe it. Hopefully, examining what I do in this way will further the work itself.
The writing I’ve done lately may have primed the pump in other ways, too- A new poem, Small Awakenings, has been posted on the Poetry and Prose page.
3.23.2006
I seldom begin by establishing a size or format to work in. I want the drawing to determine those things, rather than the other way around. My first choices determine how the drawing will begin; with each successive choice, direction develops, and the remaining options become fewer. This happens quickly enough; I don’t want to restrict that process further by initially limiting whatever may develop to a 4” x 6” box. I try to allow the drawing to become the most it can, to grow as I work: Mmn, this is interesting. Looks like the beginnings of a path, disappearing around a bend… And I explore that possibility, and the drawing grows in that direction.
But no matter how much I may like any given element, if it doesn’t serve the drawing as a whole, it’s gotta go. And of course, my reach often exceeds my grasp, something simply doesn’t work- So by the time most compositions are finalized, at least some editing’s happened. The drawing’s become smaller again; but hopefully, tighter and stronger too.
At 9” x 4 ½”, Forgiveness is the largest drawing I’ve done in awhile. The drawing grew; I followed, as usual- But this time, though, the results seemed to need little editing…
Three of my recent drawings are on exhibit at the Arnot Art Museum, Elmira, New York, in the 2006 Gallery Gala, a collection of work by regional artists to benefit the museum’s collection. On Friday, June 2, a reception and silent auction of work featured in the exhibition will be held, beginning at 5:30 PM. Bidding ends at 7:30 PM. Tickets are $35 per person for museum members, $40 per person for non-members. The exhibition is on view May 12- June 2, during museum hours: Tuesday – Saturday, 10 AM – 5 PM; Sunday 1-5 PM. For more information, call the Arnot Art Museum at 607-734-3697.
7.5.2006
Every now and then, I take a break from drawing. My breaks are usually unplanned, a byproduct of periods when other demands leave little time and energy to work with. Busy times seem to come along when they’re needed, to coincide with times when I’ve drawn as much as I can for awhile- or rather, I’ve drawn as much out of myself as I can. The part of me the drawings come from, or through, has emptied, or at become inaccessible for now- That part of me is tired, needs rest, refreshing, refilling.
Often, I can push through days when I feel that way, and continue to be productive, to learn. But over the years, I’ve learned to recognize times when I can’t, when trying to draw will simply be a waste of time, effort, and material. These aren’t bad times, and I no longer resent them. They’re just part of the cycle, and I need to take a break.
When I return to work after an extended break, I find I’m further along the path than when I paused. I can do things I couldn’t before. Seems likely that while I was taking a break, my subconscious was continuing to learn, to progress. Doesn’t make me want to take more breaks- I expect returns would quickly diminish. But knowing, expecting that this is happening helps make those times when I’m not able to draw okay, and as they should be.
And when I sit down at the drawing table again, it’s gonna be fresh, and exciting, and nobody, anywhere,
will be having more fun.
8.10.2006
For the last several months, my site's Updates page has been becoming less about events, newly available drawings, etc, and more a journal- albeit a sporadic one- about the work itself. What I've been learning, realizing I need to learn- Which, as always, remains a very great deal. Learning is a path that need have no end- And no matter how far I've come, I always feel I'm still just at its beginning.
On that note- Today, I'm beginning a new blog, at markreep.blogspot.com . Updates, journal entries, works in progress, links, more- In a new, easily accessible, feed reader-friendly format. Both my site and the new blog remain themselves works in progress, too- All comments, contributions, and suggestions are welcome. Stop by, bookmark- And if you'd like to subscribe to the new blog, click the orange icon at the bottom of the page for more information.
For current updates, journal, works in progress, writings, visit
