Ornithology

or·ni·thol·o·gy

noun

  1. the scientific study of birds.

Depending on what online dictionary pops up highest in search results, the gist is the same: Ornithology is the study of birds. I’m secretly a big fan of birds (secret’s out now, to all four of you reading this), so they work their way in as subjects of my artwork quite often.

Quick story time: I was on a phone call earlier this week. When the call was over, I hung up and heard some thunks and clamor at the window right near my chair. This goldfinch had landed outside on the window and was staring at me like he wanted something. We hung out for a bit (and by “a bit” I mean probably a matter of seconds; we didn’t sit around and have cocktails and lounge by the non-existant pool), and then he was on his way.

I don’t know if he realized it, but that little window visitor fella gave me the “Ah ha” of what I wanted to draw next. Really though, I’ve never had a bird so blatently appear like that - how could I not draw goldfinches next?

Goldfinch numero uno // 6” x 6”

More, please. When I’m drawing, I tend to draw multiples until I’m satisfied, and then I’ll play around with colors (see Franz Marc’s Blue Horses; he is one of my favorite non-traditional color-using artists). Today the colors all stayed in the traditional yellow and black realm, but all totalled I ended up with four birds and am not mad about that.

Pair o’finches // 6”x6”

But Kelly, why do you like blind contour instead of looking when you’re drawing? I’m so glad you asked. Each time I draw something (like the birds today), I’m drawing from the same photo or object in front of me, and the outcome is different each time. The first version of whatever I’m drawing is the purest, for lack of a better word. I haven’t figured anything out yet in the first drawing, so whatever the outcome is, it is the rawest (and oftetimes it is the wonkiest/ “worst” version. Or the best).

There is something freeing about the fact that each time the result will be different. Each time I have the chance to learn something about the route of the line I’m taking. Each time won’t be perfect. AND each time I won’t be disappointed. Blind contour has a way of allowing the essence of the subject to come through even though the lines aren’t “perfect”.

Fun fact: there is a wonky goldfinch drawn on the other side of the paper I drew this guy on - I didn’t want to waste paper (you can kind of see where the marker bled through by the branch he’s perched on) // This one is 3.5” x 5”

I never took a formal art class (save for whatever they made us take in, say, elementary and middle school), but over the years I’d often find myself bored or frustrated with whatever I was drawing/painting when working from an object (pre-blind contour). I couldn’t get it “perfect” to match the object I was trying to draw. I couldn’t get what was in my head to match what came out on the canvas or painting. Photorealism is not in my wheelhouse.

Adapt.

Blind contour released that. Blind contour is wayyyy more freeing (to use that word again), and what’s in my brain and what comes out on the paper are much better aligned by using this method. I’m much more satisfied with the end result way more often, and I am now able to be excited about how imperfect my art is. The big reveal at the end is now exciting instead of frustrating, which makes the whole experience more enjoyable. True story.

Ta da

Thanks for stopping by my window, little colorful bird fella.

Do you prefer a certain type of art (as either the viewer or the creator)? Impressed by Impressionism? Enthralled by Abstract Expressionism? Do you find frescos fascinating? Tell me about it in comments!

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