Monday, July 23, 2012

My Guild Experience Part Five: Friday and Farewell to Friends

      Friday was the final day. We rose from bed, reveled in the beauty of the mountains for one final time, pondered the scriptures, packed our bags, and headed off to breakfast. I met several of my new friends' families and we spoke over one final Mohonk Mountain House breakfast. After we had eaten our fill, we moved off towards the parlor where we were delighted by Cathy Sarah's students' theatre presentation. All did splendidly. After the performance's conclusion, we were directed to the Conference Center where the other teachers presented the other work we had contributed to. It was such a wonderful time, where many a-back received a friendly pat and cheers were lifted in admiration. We closed with Phillip Telfer's beautiful song "Pour It Out"... the song that had touched so many of us when we had sung it Wednesday night. The teachers were then called up onto the stage and the students were given the opportunity to beggar them with questions for about an hour. When the questions had been asked and the jokes uttered, the masters stepped down and allowed us all shake their hands and thank them for their wonderful instruction.

      And say goodbye. These masters, mentors, teachers, where our family. They had passed on their knowledge to us, and we were doleful to bid them adieu. Hands were shaken, hugs were given. Goodbyes spoken in a tone of sorrow.

Cathy Sara, stage-acting teacher, and I...

      Lunch remained the final meeting-place for us students and many crowded to the tables to eat our final meal together. We laughed and joked, sang and spoke. More hugs, more shakes of the hand. After lunch, group pictures were shot, final farewells were given, contact information was exchanged, final hugs, final fist-bumps... promises to write, to collaborate, to further our relationships. We laughed, if not to keep from crying. We smiled, if not to keep from grimacing at the thought of long separation. Brotherhoods had been formed. They would not be broken, our new friendships not severed. Finally we had to tear ourselves away as we headed off on our separate paths. But I know I will never forget those faces. We behaved boldly to encourage each other, but we pained to say goodbye. This band of brothers formed, this fellowship of minds... it cannot, nor will it, come to an end. Great things will come of our companionship, our camaraderie.

Cody (Never did gave him a nickname...) and I...
Alex (Frodo), Me, Ben (Joisy-Boy), and Garret...
The Roommates...
      Honestly - the days I spent at the Guild were entirely unforgettable. It was a wonderful time and a valuable business choice. I'd do it again in a heartbeat. And while saying farewell to my new friends was bitter and also sweet, I look forward to strengthening those relationships as we live on and encouraging each other in Godliness, like iron sharpens iron. Until we meet again, Ladies and Gents!

Sunday, July 22, 2012

My Guild Experience Part Four: Wednesday and Thursday

      Wednesday Morning a number of us planned to climb out of bed before the sunrise, hike up to the tower, and watch the sun rise from there. The heat never calmed, and we hiked in sticky humidity, laughing and enjoying ourselves despite the temperature being what it was. Once at the tower, we goofed about until the sun finally began to poke its head up and over the far hills. It was such a gorgeous sight.

Me and Brandon (Scarecrow)...
       Brandon was another one of the totally awesome people I met at the Guild. The guy was so energetic and fun to be around. He is absolutely on fire for the Lord and has such a flare for style. It felt so weird to talk with him, because so often it felt like I was talking with myself. We were just so like-minded! He's also a speech-accent enthusiast, and while he hasn't quite gotten the Scottish accent down, he does a Jack-Sparrow impersonation which is even better than Johnny Depp himself... absolutely fantastic stuff!

      Wednesday evening Phillip Telfer spoke about pouring ourselves out to the Lord. His message was meant to encourage us to give our all for the Lord, that He would be able to use us as His servants to further His kingdom. Phillip's words were not ignored. They were taken to heart by all who heard him. When his message came to its conclusion, he lifted his voice to the Lord and taught us a song that he wrote called "Pour it  Out". It's just
a simple song, which he played quite well on his guitar, but the lyrics were so genuine and heart-filled I was really touched and impressed. And as we all lifted our voices to the Lord, to praise His holy Name and pour out ourselves to Him, I felt the Lord's presence in the building. My spine was devoured by chills of excitement and streams of tears ran down my face. It was an incredible time of worship. Mark Hamby called those who were inclined to come up to the alter, that they would be able to pray and dedicate themselves to the Lord. After the worship service we all just hugged each other and reveled in what we had just experienced. It was such a fantastic time.

      I slept well that night, though. When the voice-over coaching was at its end, I went right to bed as soon as I could. So many early mornings and late nights were really taking their toll on me.

      Thursday was also a whole lot of fun. Todd Busteed, John Cambell, and Cathy Buchanan all put their heads together, with a whole lot of the dramatic arts students and we brainstormed the characters and story for an audio-drama. Then a fist-full of script-writing students left with Cathy and got the script written out, while the rest of us auditioned for the audio drama's many colorful characters. Once all the roles were filled, and the run-away script was found and brought to the teachers, they worked on getting it all recorded and edited. Then Todd added his affects magic, and John added his music. It was just so great.

       Also - here is what a typical breakfast at the Mohonk Mountain Resort looks like. It included, but was not limited to, miniature Belgian waffles, bacon, eggs, French toast, sausage, scalloped potatoes, and toast, not to mention unlimited amounts of nearly every fruit and large amounts oat-meal (Yucky...). Also - bottomless mugs of REALLY good coffee, which I appreciated most of all. I ate like a king while at the Guild, it was just the best thing ever.

Saturday, July 21, 2012

My Guild Experience Part Three: Monday and Tuesday

           Monday evening we were introduced to the 'special guest' we had heard so much about. All afternoon Mr. Hamby walked him around the Mohonk grounds, disrupting whatever classes he passed. We were asked not to speak to him all afternoon, and told instead to wait until that evening when we would be formally introduced.

       Yeah... yeah... He does look like George W. Bush. I was taken in, too. I fell for it to the last. I was tricked, fooled. But it isn't actually him.He's a George Dubblyuh Bush impersonator. (A really good one...)

      He was so funny, though. I laughed so stinkin' hard. He wasn't bad on the guitar, either.

      That evening was also the first of the Voice-Over coaching with Curt Morse and Allen Hurley. Of the one-hundred students attending the Guild, sixty of them wanted to be coached in the Voice-Over Sessions. When I found out about that, I kind of started to freak. I mean - that was the entire reason I came to the Guild! Would I not get an opportunity to get coached? Obviously not everyone would be able to get that opportunity... So they put together a raffle. If your number got called, you got to get your voice recorded. So, for an hour and a half, I heard other students get their numbers called and get their voices recorded. When the final raffle was announced, I figured my number had been a dud and that I should have dug around more for a better one. But when Curt Morse called the number, no one stood up to take their place. He called another. Nothing. He dug around in the can, shook it a bit, called another number. Nope. I began to despair. I wasn't going to get called. Maybe tomorrow. He called another number. I glanced at mine. They were the same. ... I leaped up, out of my seat, and marched up to the microphone. It was so much fun standing behind that mic'. It's a feeling that I doubt I will ever forget.

      Anyway - we were supposed to record the voices for a commercial. Curt Morse played the commercial for us so that we had an idea of what it was supposed to sound like, then we got right to recording. Everyone before me tried their best to sound as close to the voices in the commercial as they could... I decided to take a more original route (Who am I kidding... I'm a ham, and it was an opportunity to show off and impress people.). Once I opened my mouth, the room erupted in an explosion of laughter. Even the people who were trying to record with me lost control and couldn't help but to laugh. It was quite the difficulty recording the radio-spot with me. I was just so funny. Hilarious, even.

      You can check out all the radio-spots at the Guild's official blog. Guild Voice-Over Blog Post (Mine's the fifth one.) It was the Guild favorite. Everyone laughed their heads off when it played, and it got played a lot. Heck. After that whole experience, I had people walking up to me all week, requesting that I use my accents. It was quite entertaining.

      Tuesday morning they showed this incredible video. Such a powerful video with such an important message. I was very much impressed by the quality of the video, too.

      That afternoon I had some free time, so I went canoeing with Alex, one of the many awesome people that I met at the Guild. Such a wonderful time, rowing about the lake like a couple members of the fellowship in Elven boats (That's the whole reason we chose a canoe... silly, nerdy us!).

      After returning to shore, we still had some free time, so we decided to try to reach the tower that could be seen down on the Mohonk Mountain House's porch.
Up there... On the left... up high...
      The climb was absolutely exhausting, but far more than well-worth it. The tower was built out of awesomeness. Oh! And between that awesomeness was more awesomeness! So it was all win.

      Inside was almost as awesome as outside. And up on top was awesome-est of all. From up there the Mountain house, which I should be continually referring to as massive, looked like a tiny little thing.

Alex (Frodo) and Me (Barbarian)...
      It's so good to think of the times I had at the Guild. I already miss all my new friends. I hate goodbyes of any kind... And this whole trip has been full of them. My next post will allow me to think more on my awesome time at the Mohonk mountain house, so I look forward to that. And I hope all you readers of mine look forward to it too...

Friday, July 20, 2012

My Guild Experience Part Two: Orientation and first classes...

My Guild Experience Post Two: Sunday and Monday...

"It looks like a bloomin' castle!"
Did I mention that Mohonk is absolutely gorgeous? Because it really is. This place is entirely unbelievable. Not only are the grounds themselves quite impressive indeed, but the interior of the mountain house is so awesome. Arriving here and then walking all around and exploring the place made me feel very much like one of the children from C.S. Lewis' The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe who get sent off to the country to live in the house of one Professor Digory Kirke. Maybe it's because the mountain house frowns on all running, speaking noisily, and touching of artifacts that are expensive and breakable...

Thunder and lightning did end up keeping me inside for a short while on the day of my arrival, but it ended fairly quickly.

Sunday evening was when the teaching began. Mr. Hamby is an incredibly gifted speaker. He speaks from his heart, and his heart is moved by God. His insights are quite Biblical and his teaching is very informative. He's also got a great sense of humor. The guy knows how to be really humorous, but he knows when it's appropriate and when it isn't, and I've really appreciated his thoughtfulness and seriousness.

All the teachers are incredibly kind and easy to speak with. They're all very Godly people who yearn for righteousness and obedience to Jesus Christ. Every one of them is gifted by God and their talents are very much evident. 

    Todd Busteed is absolutely hilarious. The guy has so much raw energy, his sessions were very energetic and a whole lot of fun. He focused mainly on sound-design and a bit of voice-acting. He's a really fun guy to learn from.

      Phillip Telfer and John-Clay Burnett hosted an elective talk on documentary film making. It was a very informative talk, and I really appreciated both of their insights. Also, Phillip Telfer is an incredibly accomplished musician. You can check out his stuff at his personal site: Seriously, the guy is incredible - and it's because he's driven fully by God.
      Cathy Sarah taught the acting class. It focused the most on imagination and boldness. She has a great way of cheering up the rooms she enters and is absolutely brilliant when it comes to encouragement. She also has the most lovely English accent.
      Curt Morse and Allen Hurley are the primary sound guys. They were doing voice-over coaching and video making/ video sound editing. Curt Morse has the perfect radio DJ's voice, and he's a great sound-booth engineer. Both these men have been a lot of fun to learn under.

       John Campbell is the genius teaching the music composition classes. The man has tallent out the ears. We gave him three random chords, and from those he added whatever came to mind and crafted a beautiful piece. I wish I could spend even more time around him and seeing him composing.

      Sorry these pictures might be blurry. The master-teachers here have trouble standing still. That and I was so busy laughing, it was impossible to get a nice picture. Also - I guess I forgot to get a picture of Cathy Buchanan. But they were all amazing. She was the script-writing teacher and also incredibly insightful. Monday we listened in for an hour to each speaker. They all only tempted our palettes with their amazing skill and know-how.

 I know it's a short post, but with everything going on, I just haven't had time to write up anything cool. I have so much more to write about, but that will have to be in my next post.

Wednesday, July 18, 2012

My Guild Experience Part One: The Flight...

      I kind of already mentioned that I got to Connecticut, but I didn't mention what the trip was like. The drive from my home to Sea-Tac airport seemed like such a long drive. Mom and Dad both drove to the airport with me. Dad was going to fly with me to Connecticut while Mom was to return home with the automobile. About the only interesting thing I saw on the drive was a guy licking a CD while driving. Either it was a new, original, and oddly interesting way of cleaning the disk, or he just happened to like that CD a whole lot. I don't know... It did provide some final humor before my departure.

      As we arrived at the airport and saw planes parked out on the runway, I decided the decal on the Alaskan Air-Lines planes' tails looks like Abraham Lincoln with a Lion's mane. Odd, I know – but it's true!


      One of my friends told me to take special note of the Airlines I flew with. He said that as friends, we should be recommending good businesses to each other. I agreed (Mostly because it gives me another opportunity to prattle on...). My Dad and I flew American Airlines. It didn't seem too bad of a company. The first flight (Seattle to Dallas...) was pleasant enough for a night-flight. The stewardess (Such a better name than 'flight attendant'...) was offering me refreshments in what seemed like seconds after we had taken off. (Refreshments I stupidly refused... Obviously I was just too tired.) One helpful thing was that checked baggage was sent right on through to Hartford , so we didn't have to worry about it at the layover. (Dad was charged for that checked luggage, though, when it should have been complimentary (Both bags were very much within the parameters that were given on their internet site.) so that counts as a point against them.

Sea-Tac... in all its awfully photographed glory.
Our sitting... place... sign... thingy...

      The entire boarding process was remarkably straightforward and simple. Finding our seats was no trouble either, but the row down the center of the plane seemed rather thin. Once in our seats it seemed like barely an time had passed at all before the captain had made his little speech and then the plane was taxliing down the runway and headed for the point where it would begin the exciting process of lifting off. From my window I could see the runway lights all lit up. Orbs of orange and green. They dotted the runway in rows, winding this way and that. Planes blasted past, leaping from the shackles of the runways and dear Earth and slipping into freedom by becoming airborne. In the far distance lightning flashed here and there; the slender streaks bringing the near clouds into brilliantly lit view even in the dark of night. Too soon was the plane turning on the runway and heading off in a new direction. Then it sat patiently, awaiting its turn chance to break the barrier between earth and sky. One plane, two, three lifted off ahead of ours before, suddenly, it was our turn. The plane rolled into position, the engines flared, and we were hurtling down the runway. The lights that dotted the perimeter, originally illuminated orbs of essence, now transformed into streaks that blasted past the window. I felt myself pressed back into my seat and the floor lifting below my feet, and then the plane was soaring through the air. Buildings grew smaller as we flew further away from them. The city around us was lit by thousands of little specks of light, all reaching out in a web towards the distant horizon. One large chunk of brightly lit earth gave way to smaller groupings which were separated by odd shapes, designs of black, unlit ground. In little time though, the lighted cities, the lightning, all this was lost in the distance and instead replaced by pitch-darkness and the monotonous blinking of the strobe-light on the end of the wing. (My seat was right above the plane's wing. I thought I glimpsed a gremlin on the wing, tearing at panels and biting wires, but it must have been my imagination...) For the longest time, very few lights appeared on the ground far below, and even more often few did I see at all.
      The pilot was a nice enough fellow and he flew the plane quite professionally. Overall it seemed quite smooth, with gentle banking (though I did experience turbulence more often than I had anticipated...) Out of the plane's window I could see the stars as they hung in the sky, almost dangling about the plane. But even more beautiful was the crescent moon that shone from far above.

Sea-Tac from my plane window...
I know it's small... but that's the moon!

      The airport in Dallas was rather neat indeed. A monorail delivers you from gate to gate and the seats were fairly comfortable. They had a TV running the entire time, showing the latest news coverage. (Boring...)From where we were sitting in the Dallas airport I could not see the sunrise, but I did see a very pretty pink sky. I looked at everyone with their coffee and I really have no idea why didn't purchase some for my own self. I won't make that mistake again... ever...

      Lifting off the second time was just as exhilarating as the previous time. It certainly is an incredible feeling. The clouds beneath the plane formed a thick bank of white marshmallow soup. They stretched just about as far I could see. The flight from Dallas to Hartford was so different from the previous one. The cloud banks in the sky during that flight shimmered in the moonlight and curled about like mist or steam

      I'd been wanting to write about the flight... but now that that's over – I'll be posting as much as I can on the happenings at the Guild. In short – just these last four days have been absolutely incredible.

Sunday, July 15, 2012

That lovely sigh of relief...

      Well, I'm here. We made it to Connecticut. This computer (An Apple MACbook pro which my Dad turned into a Linux Debian machine...) doesn't like my camera, though, so until  I buy an SD card reader for the computer, or it and my camera choose to get over their differences and become friends, I won't be able to get any pictures up here to go with my posts.

      Hopefully I shall remedy that technicality soon. And then there shall be much rejoicing.Until then. I'm here. I'm safe.

      And I'm having a whole lot of fun. Connecticut is beautiful. So many deciduous trees, which are green and in full bloom now, line the roads and path-ways. They really are enormous mammoths with massive, gnarled trunks. The street signs are easier to read here, too. And the roads are less bumpy and patched. The speed limits change a lot, in not very much distance, which is odd. But whatever. It was rather muggy yesterday, but it smells really nice here. I like it. It's really nice to meet more of my extended family members and reacquaint myself with the ones I met before but haven't seen in years. I miss my friends and family back home, though. I missed them in the Seattle airport, I missed them in the plane from Seattle to Dallas, I missed them in the Dallas airport, and I missed them in the Dallas to Hartford airport... I'm really glad I traveled with my Dad, because if I had been alone with no one familiar to talk to, I would have broken down entirely!No one to joke with, or tease, or even give a simple to fist-bump to! I think I would have died. No... I'm absolutely sure of it.

      But if I keep rambling on in this post, I'll end up giving away all the stuff I was going to write about my flight, and I won't post on that until I can post pictures to go with it. So I'll bring this post to an end.

Thursday, July 12, 2012


             It was kind of a bit of a spur-‘o-the moment deal. I decided the sunset needed its picture taken. I grabbed my camera, (Entirely forgetting its protective case behind…) laced up my hiking boots, and tore out towards the nearest ridge where I knew the best view was.

 That nearest ridge happens to be not so near…

             As I ran I knew I’d need as much speed as I could muster, seeing as the Sun has a way of sinking rather quickly once it touches the distant horizon. Once a fair way down the gravel driveway, there are three paths that lead in the direction of the even farther gravel road which in turn leads to the ridge I wanted to reach before the Sun set. Two of them are horribly over-grown this time of year, the third only reaches half the distance the other two reach. Obviously, in my hurry, I was not thinking properly as I took the path which only leads half-way to the gravel road. And once the path ended, I found myself racing right into a thick group of Blackberry bushes. I tore through them vigorously at first, as if nothing in the world could stop me. But then the pain of the thorny vines which tore and bit at my bare arms and legs reached my mind. The thorns scraped at me, laughing, mocking the poor protection my barely-knee-length shorts gave my legs and stabbing right through the thin fabric of my printed T-shirt. I tripped, rolled in the bushes, climbed to my feet and pushed on, slowly at first, then faster. If I was going to catch that sunset, I’d need to push on quickly, I had no time to re-trace my steps. Again I broke through the bushes, crawling, climbing, stumbling. The blood in my head beat loudly in my ears, I gasped pitifully, my heart throbbed. I fell again. I couldn’t get up. I’d miss that sunset. I’d come this far, gotten so scratched, torn, just to miss a sunset and return home sullen faced and depressed.


            I grabbed and scrambled and pulled until I reached my feet. I rushed and crashed through the foliage. The evil, cackling, nipping foliage that pulled at my arms and legs and tried to cause me to fall, to trip. I pushed through and reached the gravel road. But that was not even the half-way point of my sprint. I was not even close to a point where I’d be able to see that sunset, let alone get a good photograph. Once on the gravel, I began running as hard as I could. My pathetically weak ankles burned from the tightly laced boots. My side throbbed from exertion while my brow and cheeks felt sticky from sweat. I prayed… it was silly… foolish maybe, but I prayed. “Dear Lord, hold back the sun. Keep it from setting entirely before I reach the ridge. Let me see the fragment of your beauty that the Sunset is. Please.” My legs were sore, so I stopped. I slowed to a walk. There, two, three, four steps ahead of me was the incline. The hill that led to the ridge. So tired, so torn, so broken, yet I had the hill to climb before I reached the summit where I could finally see what I was seeking.

            My legs spun on, driving me forward. I had no control, I climbed the hill, running. Around the bend, up the gravel road. And there it was. The very, very tail end of the sunset. The final rays were folding behind the horizon that stretched out before me. The beauty of the sky, clouds edged with fiery orange and pink, it all distracted me of the fact that I had indeed reached the ridge.

            I fumbled for my camera, drew it from my pocket (At least I had had the sense to slide into my pocket…) and snapped a picture. Two. Three. Twelve. It was so easy to capture these fleeting seconds, storing them away for viewing later. I had missed the sunset, barely, but I was thankful to see what I had been allowed. It was a beautiful sight.

            A parallel comes to mind as I think about the happenings of this evening. When a person accepts the Lord Jesus as their savior, they want to race on ahead, reaching the beauty that is their Lord. But in their excitement and hurry, they sometimes foolishly take the wrong path, where they are met by things of evil. Perhaps they took the right path, though… And are still met with things of evil. These things must be bypassed or shoved aside, they must be battled, fought against, grappled with. The believer cannot give up. And when they think ahead of the beauty that they can reach if they work against the evil that blocks their path, they can persevere and reach the path that leads to the Lord’s glory. Once there they have, no further progress that they can make without Him. They cannot reach what they yearn for. Not without His guidance or help, but He is there for the believer to call out to. He tests them, to see if they are worthy. Can they make the last stretch? Can they climb the final hill?

            And if they have been faithful to trust Him. If they have followed after Him with perseverance… they see beauty.

So gorgeous...

One good thing about these kinds of experiences is that we can warn others not to follow in our footsteps. I’d recommend being a little more practical with these things. Because once the sun had slipped behind the distant hills to its resting place until morning, I realized how chewed up my legs and arms were. Several thick cuts (And many more thinner ones…) were oozing sticky, crimson blood. And since everyone knows that mosquitoes are distant relatives of sharks, the little stinkers were lured in from all over the place, and I was soon being devoured by a new evil. I’d recommend making some kind of clever plan to follow when choosing to photograph a sunset, instead of deciding to up and hasten after it with no arrangement to pursue.

Still… pretty pictures!

Wednesday, July 11, 2012

A drawing of the James Caird - Part 2

Well, ‘tis finished. Honestly, I thought it would take me a lot longer, but I’m willing to accept it as a finished piece the way it is. I haven’t had a project like this in a long time. I usually just do smaller drawings, and less detailed ones. This didn’t involve a whole lot lot of details, but it sure involved a lot of shading. It was a lot of fun to draw something this big. In a way I’m sorry the drawing process is over. But I’m also glad it is finished and I’m quite happy with the end result. The next step will be finding a frame that is large enough to fit it.

... And getting the matting all in order...

For now I think I'll just admire it on the pad...

Monday, July 9, 2012

A drawing of the James Caird - Part 1

I wish I could say I have long been fascinated by The Endurance expedition and Shakleton’s incredible real-life adventures in Antarctica, but in reality it wasn’t all that long ago that my friend Grace introduced me to the book Endurance and thus got me entirely caught up in that amazingly captivating tale of heroism and survival against more than all the odds.

It’s an entirely unbelievable story; that Shakleton and his crew would undergo such torture at the hands of the icy Antarctic. That they would live through so much, and yet be met by some greater horror of nature. But least believable of all, is the blatant fact that after all that nonsense the entire crew, Shakleton and all, would survive the entire voyage. Not a man lost. Incredible as it all may seem, it is pure fact. No fiction, no exaggeration; the voyage of Endurance and her courageous crew is absolutely solid truth and a historic venture that ought never be forgotten.

If you have not read Endurance (Written by Alfred Lansing…) before now, I would like to highly recommend finding it. Buying it online, ordering it from the library, or purchasing it at a used book-sale for an attractive bargain (As I did… Yep, I’m cheap.) are all perfectly acceptable ways of getting your hands on that beautiful narrative on the topic. (And it really is an excellent read. Not only is it absolutely stuffed with historical facts, all of which I found to be enthralling, but it is written in a really exciting and suspenseful style which keeps the reader quickly turning pages to learn what happens next.) It, most-definitely, is an excellent read!

The same friend that introduced me to Endurance (Bless her soul, I honestly don’t think she was expecting me to be as enthusiastic about the whole expedition as I ended up being…) came for a visit with her family about a week back and brought her copy of South with Endurance: Shackleton's Antarctic Expedition 1914-1917 The Photographs of Frank Hurley which we sat down to look through together. I was absolutely and entirely swallowed up by the amazing full-page photographs on the pages. One of the larger photographs was a large black and white print of a number of the Endurance’s crew pulling the James Caird which is mounted on sled runners. (These times of pulling the smaller boats like the James Caird were tremendously difficult for the crew, and they gained little ground per day…)

We were both struck by the beauty of the photograph and I decided quite suddenly that I would draw it. We decided immediately that large paper would be a necessity, and after taking a quick look through my drawing-pads I found an 18x24 one that has some paper that would be perfect for the piece. Sadly, since last we spoke, I just haven’t had an opportunity to work on it. I made a bit of time for myself this morning, though, and sketched out the preliminary lines I’d need to rough out the drawing.

During the process I learned that my desk is most-certainly more suited for my 9x11 drawing pad, but I think it will manage at least for this one drawing.
What a mess...

I can’t wait to finish it. Though I adore the drawing process for all its therapeutic advantages to me, I always love looking at a finished art-piece and marking its strong points and weaker ones. That’s where I learn the most…