Monday, April 28, 2025

Commit Acts of Art: Loose Papers in a Sketchbook

 "Not every act of art creates something special, but it does create something. It is the act of art that is important, not the result." Michael L. Goodman


Several loose papers and drawings were slipped between the sketchbook pages I am chronicling here. I don't know when or in what order these loose pieces were done, but they are certainly of the sketchbook decade.


Begun, but never finished. They may be better as unfinished studies.


I remember this sketch was modeled on a photograph in a magazine, probably LIFE.

More random pages.



A strange mother and child, or a strange drawing of a mother and child?








Commit Acts of Art: More Leaves from Old Sketchbooks

 " Not every act of art creates something special, but it does create something. It is the act of art that is important, not the result." Michael L. Goodman

These are more pages from a 1965 sketchbook. They are all 14" by 17". These pages were done with crayons. I still like using crayons.

I have no idea what this was supposed to be, if anything:

Some still life:




A couple of beauties here:


A bridge too far?

Commit Acts of Art Every Day!






Sunday, April 27, 2025

Commit Acts of Art: Finding Old Sketchbooks

 "Not every act of art creates something special, but it does create something. It is the act of art that is important, not the result." Michael L. Goodman

It is said that anyone who can read cannot clean out the attic. Too many opportunities to sit and read an article in a magazine that someone saved for some reason, or flip through the pages of a book you saved because you were going to read it one of these days. I am the same way when I look in one of my storage boxes full of pages torn out of various magazines and old books stacked in the closet. I have to look at them. The questions are always Why did I save this. What was I going to use it for? What project did I have in mind and never started? I put the boxes back on the closet shelves and shut the door.

Well, last week as I was trying to clean and reorganize my office/studio, not the closet, I unearthed some of my sketchbooks and several loose drawings from the mid-1960s mixed in with the art paper stacked on shelves in the corner of the room. I have looked at them a few times over the years, but I had to sit down and look at them again until my cleaning time ran out.

Most of the pages were still life crayon drawings in the Cubism style. I was very into Cubism, modern art, and experimental techniques in the '60s. My teacher, mentor, and friend, Floyd Cornaby, encouraged experimentation.

Here is a set of pages from my sketchbook from 1964 or 65. I was 16 when these were done. Each page is 14" by 17".











Commit Acts of Art Every Day!



Friday, April 25, 2025

Committing Acts of Art: Some Things Take Time

 "Not every act of art creates something special, but it does create something. It is the act of art that is important, not the result." Michael L. Goodman

Sometimes it takes time to finish what you start. Committing an act of art may not happen in one sitting at the art table. Multiple acts of art may be committed in a day or begun and finished later. Sometimes, once you start, you have to stop and ponder it for several days. Life has obligations that must be met and often interfere with the completion of an act of art. I have several projects in motion every day, and eventually, some of them get finished. More likely than not, my acts of art are interrupted to do a task for my wife, or a neighbor, or the necessity of pulling noxious weeds and watering the peas.

But the reverse is also a regular occurrence. While pulling weeds in the garden, I often get distracted by an area that needs "art" attention, like arranging particular stones into a carefully balanced tower, or some trailing vine that needs to be woven into a wreath and nailed on the shed wall. 

These pages were started several weeks ago and are finished, as far as I am concerned. What to do with them is a question I haven't answered. They will probably become envelopes to carry letters to my grandsons.