Change of Pace

Recently I took a break from painting, seeking out another path to follow for awhile. Suddenly I had felt the need to "cleanse the palette," to return to the basics of paper and ink.  I've written before about nudes and my love of the human form; however, I've only taken one life drawing class, which was cut short by snow storms last year.  I continue to dabble, sketching people at the beach, sitting in cafes, waiting in airports, etc.  There is something about the body in moments of quietude, when the person is totally unaware of being observed -- staring off into space over a mug of coffee, laying on a beach soaking in the rays or trundling along the sidewalk walking a dog -- those are the moments one hopes to capture.

The Pin by K. E. Marszycki
11"x14";  ink on paper

It's more difficult during a posed life drawing, as the model is aware and often posed in a stilted manner. Time is pressing, you can hear other members of the class grumbling, whispering, the model twitches, the instructor rambles on and on giving well-meaning advice . . . then "bing!" the timer goes off and you're just getting warmed up.

Seated Nude by K. E. Marszycki

14" x 17"; gouache on paper

The fun thing about these sketches is that they were done from my head -- sorry, Madam, but I'm removing your bathing suit but just this once, I assure you -- from people I recall or, as in the case of the sketch below, taken from a beautiful sculpture by Rodin of his lover, Camille Claudel.

Rendering of Rodin's Savage Sweetness by K.E. Marszycki

17" x 14"; ink on paper

I hope to continue this series of ink sketches as I believe they are loose and spontaneous with little time to fret over whether the scale or dimensions are correct, that there are no facial features thus giving them perhaps a more universal feel.  I liked the feel of the ink on paper and, whenever I found myself tensing up, I turned the bamboo stick sideways and rolled it, thus breaking up the line, letting my clumsiness convey an added edginess.

Maybe a bit later in the spring I will have some of these sketches framed and bring to the Gallery . . . we'll see.  Sometimes it's difficult to let one's work go when it has given you such pleasure, such freedom, has taught you well . . .