"Seasons"

I'm really pleased with this one. Not a Nuggets, but it'll definitely get printed up full-sized and framed like 2024's epic "Rush Hour" panel and go on the wall for the annual fall faculty exhibition.  It took a while, not so much to actually, physically draw, though that was also tedious, but more it sat around incubating (fermenting?) in sketch form for forever. The layout/composition was the most fun in the process. I oscillated a lot after it was finished, tweaking the three vertical floater panels with different ranges of value, but it always came across as too overworked, too Photshoppy, so I deliberately left them flat (update: yep sure enough, even after uploading, I still went back one more time and tweaked them yet again with a super-subtle gradation + a handful more digital flakes set off against the hand-drawn ones) and also using no color. The middle "smoke" panel was the only area not converted with the usual threshold setting after the scan - the 18x24" original being so big it had to be scanned (I now again have an Epson tabloid in my office) in two separate sections then digitally recombined, so as to retain the softer, grimy aesthetic. It was somewhat of a demo piece done in the background of several Pen & Ink sessions, hence the range of different textures: scumbling with a ballpoint pen; crow-quill dip-pen on the leaves (a real pain as it was on an 18x24" sheet of watercolor paper so the surface texture was constantly snagging the nibs); the regular Hunt 105 dip-pen on the background + dog; a stick dipped in India ink for the iconic black spruce; brush on the droplets (again, as with the dip-pens, a bit too chunky on account of the substrate but cleaned up digitally), and lastly the Microns (8, 10 and 12) for the text + panel borders. It was originally intended to double as a demo in using watercolors (hence the stock) and also how to incorporate masking fluid into the long-term development of a piece, but by the time I finished the linework, I was too impatient to monkey around with it any more. 

After a search through the archives, I dug up this image from the compost heap: from a post back in 2020 about an encounter with a neighboring stray, and an accompanying Bukowski poem I was turned on to back during my tenure at SCAD for graduate studies. I had always intended that to be a study for a much larger piece, but had completely forgotten about the project, as happens with many an artistic intention (again with the mental mulch-pile metaphor). 

So I was pretty moved emotionally to rediscover it and see it come full circle. I mean, how weird to semi-remember that the three-legged dog in that exact same pose had already been sketched out: it stirred a visual memory, and I made a mental note to ferret out and follow the breadcrumbs down a rabbit hole. And it only resurfaced on account of a random post on social media about either the same dog, or perhaps one of the many similar stray sled dogs that limp around maybe after getting mutilated by a trap.

The chosen lyrics were done at the last minute, on the fly, right before working on the final inks. In retrospect an obvious instinctual choice, from one of my favorite male vocalists of all time. A beautiful man with such a Hutchence vibe (suicide notwithstanding). And that particular song is so transcendent, so evocative and bleakly, perversely empowering, especially after out record-setting winter amidst so much existential stress and brutal horrors unfolding daily.

Finally, another note scribbled on the doodle is "*use Kakimori." This is in reference to a new (well, new as in new to me and the only reboot of the same technology since metal nibs were first invented) nib design from Kakimori, via Dick Blick. Before my professorship there is absolutely no way I would have been able to afford such a luxury toy, as it's fifty bucks, and another fifty for the holder - though the heft of the aluminum one is an interesting difference from the wooden ones I prefer, so it'll doubtless I will return to playing with it again sooner than later. My intention was to use it exclusively on this piece, but right away the rough surface texture of the watercolor paper really hampered any smooth flow, which was frustrating. This could also be partially attributed to the unbroken-in new metal in conjunction with a perhaps incompatible brand of ink, as I am currently using the standard Dr. Ph. Martin's Black Star, Winsor & Newton and Sennelier. Not to mention I am personally acclimated to using what to most folks who draw is one of the most maddening implements ever made for inking.