Work vs. Spring

Here in the lower mountains of the Issaquah Alps, it's not really spring yet. This was our first week of sunny days and temperatures above the low forties, though, and it was painful to spend so many hours indoors.




In fact, I cut a few corners on my coursework this week, and while I wish I had some better work to show, in my defense: the peas are in. The French mignonette strawberries are in the cold frame. Half the world is sprouting.



I did manage to eke out a few pieces for class. This oakleaf hydrangea leaf in colored pencil represents one of the last hangers-on from my fall garden. I planted a little dwarf Hydrangea quercifolia last year (I seem to have lost the varietal name, but I'm still looking) and it's done well, well enough to leave me a leaf to draw, anyway.

Hydrangea quercifolia leaf, overwintered
Laura Allen, 2020

The leaf itself didn't last long once I plucked it. I had to work quickly, and not just because I wanted to get back to planting the new clematis. I used a light graphite underdrawing and then Prismacolor and Polychromos colored pencils. I did a light shadow layer first in slate blue, and then started working in earnest, section by section.



The petiole of this plant is quite hairy, and I wasn't sure how to render that in colored pencil. I think I did okay; I at least attained "fuzzy." I hear you can use an embossing tool, which leaves an indention in the paper that your colored pencil will skip over, but I haven't tried it.







Of the other work I did this week, I like this little American holly seedling best. On one of the sunny mornings this week, I took a stroll along our rudimentary trail through the woods. I always try to snip an overhanging branch here or pull up an encroacher there, and this little guy came up entire and intact.

I used watercolor and Micron pen, and he lived in my paint water between sessions.

Ink's Not So Bad

winter roots of Dahlia 'Manhattan Island'
Laura Allen, 2020

This week, three separate people have asked me about teaching. I've taught classes and workshops in the past; before I moved to Seattle, I made much of my living doing community courses, adjunct teaching, and adult workshops. 

(One memorable summer, I even taught a set design course for a large children's theatre program. Never ever mention "High School Musical" to me, and especially don't hum the songs. I have

trauma.)


Aside from that, though, I love teaching and I plan to do it again. One of the reasons I'm taking this botanical illustration course from Cornell is to build my nature art portfolio. It's always tough to do finished work in the rush of a class, but this dahlia is a keeper. 

The main reason this turned out so nicely is that I'm seriously intimidated by ink. My crosshatching is cruddy and so's my stippling; I'm just a bit too heavy-handed for ink, or something. So I made a very detailed pencil underdrawing, and used every pen trick I knew.

The best advice I've ever heard is from artist Alphonso Dunn. He recommends saving pens that are running out of ink to use for shading.

It works. This dahlia root was shaded almost entirely with running-out Micron .005 pens. I took my time; it's an eight-hour drawing or so, maybe a little more. Making sure all the root paths matched up was the challenging part. 

I drew the main roots first, with their major mixmaster intersections clearly indicated. There are one or two that got drawn over, but you'd have to get a magnifying glass to find them, I think. The

drawing is life-sized, by the way, as is common in botanical illustration. It's on 11 x 17 Bristol and I used .005 Microns almost exclusively.

So, for now, still brushing up the skills...be back next week.

Back to the Drawing Board

bigleaf maple leaf, graphite, 8x10

As an artist, I've roamed far and wide. My taste in experiencing artforms is very broad, so I've never been inclined in my own work to stick to one genre, nor even to one medium. Given all the beautiful, profound ways that humans express themselves, how does anyone ever choose?

galangal root, graphite, 11x14

But my love of green growing things has never wavered. From my original college botany major; to awkwardly winning "Yard of the Month" when I was twenty-five and much too young for civic awards; to the truly ridiculous amount of money I've spent on plants over the years, engagement with the plant world has been one of the few constants in my life.


When my art career started feeling stale and lifeless a few years ago, I eventually decided to go back to basics. My desire to just draw was almost overpowering; I'd been working in abstraction and concept-based art for quite a while, and it felt odd to want to simply render.


But I did it. Still doing it, actually; drawing for its own sake is one of the purest pleasures in life. And of course I drew plants. Trees. Downed trunks. Dried leaves. Almost anything plant-ish I could see,


I've decided to hang out here in the botanical art world for a while. I've enrolled in Cornell College's distance course in Botanical Illustration, and I'll record my experience here starting later in January 2020.

For now, it's good to start a new blog. I like starting blogs. It's also good to start a new artistic journey, one that's probably been a long time coming.

branchlet, graphite and colored pencil, 15x22