Right Brain Summer Drawing Club: Picture Share #3 . . . ish . . .

When we were little, we used to start clubs every six months or so. We would hold elections so everyone could have a title, pool our money, buy a bunch of office supplies, meet again to vote on whether it was the vice president’s job or the secretary’s job to decide how many push pins and paper clips each club member was entitled to, and then . . . that was it. We never got around to meeting again, and my mother would yell at us for leaving rusty push pins all over the yard.

Well, this is not that kind of club, dammit!  I dropped the ball last week because we were still emotionally shattered basking in memories from our camping trip, but I thought one week off was enough. Well, I tried to pick it up this week, but then I couldn’t find a marker to do the picture plane drawing, and then there were these rusty push pins . . . Anyway, the upshot is that all I have for youse guys today is the first exercise from Chapter 6 (“Perceiving Edges”): the pure contour drawings. But I’m not quitting! The club lives on!

I didn’t enjoy doing this contour exercise at all. It was just aggravating. And my kids steadfastly refused to acknowledge that there was anything weirdly beautiful about them. Well, what do they know? Their idea of high art is that musical episode of Batman: the Brave and the Bold

What the hell is this, even? I blame my husband.

Anyway, here is my hand of strange and dubious beauty:

and the hand of one of my 14-year-old daughter, who doesn’t seem to be aging well, heh:

We also did the Recalled Childhood Landscapes. I couldn’t recall much, besides the corner sun, and that every tree had to have apples and at least one branch with a bird on it. It was cute to see some of my kids earnestly striving to recall the naivete of their childhoods, which were, like, last week.

So, next Tuesday I will post the other exercises in Chapter 6. Do post what you’ve got, if anything, even if it’s from previous weeks!  To link up, click on the blue froggie below. Sorry there are no thumbnails – they want me to pay for that, and I spent all my money on . . . pushpins.