Going through old boxes of stuff, I found som old ink and brush art from waaaaay back in 2002(OMG! Did they even HAVE ink back then???). Ehhmmm…
As I remember it, I started doing some autobiographical comics directly with a Pentel Color Brush back in 1997 or so. These were stream of consciousness-type thingies, with sort of random thoughts put together with ink images drawn from real life. Lot´s of looking at myself in the mirror, and some going out to draw from life.
I became very interested in drawing directly with ink, but didn´t really focus on it all the much yet. Then, in 2001 I started to realize that I was a lot better at drawing people than backgrounds and objects. And I was pretty proficient with a perspective grid, so the problem had to do with the rendering.
Sometime around then I started doing these direct ink-sketches, in order to get a feel for how to draw backgrounds without the inhibiting factor of pencil-sketches or perspective-grids. Just me, the brush, the paper, and whatever I was drawing.
It´s almost more meditating than drawing, and I remember it was quite an exhausting excercise. But it did work wonders for my backgrounds.
Summer 2002 I was broke as hell, and started drawing and selling these on the streets. Street-drawing is a very special thing, and I will write more about it and the techniques later. But for now, here´s three of the images I didn’t manage to sell, and some memories from drawing them. Strange how much comes back through art:
This first one almost caused a child’s death. Yes. OK, I´m exagerating a little, but it did cause an accident. I was working as a nanny at the time, and I took the two kids, about age 2 and a half, to “Old Bergen”, a sort of park where you can see what the city used to look like. As the kids were playing, I started drawing this. Then, suddenly one of the kids had disappeared. I turned around and saw him about 10 meters away from me walking toward a ledge, with about a one and a half meters drop right beside him. I tossed the drawing away and ran after him shouting his name. As he turned to wave he smiled and fell head first into the gravel below. For a second I though “SHiT, Fuck, Jesus, THIS IS IT!”, and then the crying started and relief came over me. I picked him up and asked, quite frantic still. “Are you OK???”. He dried his tears and said “BANG! Haha!”.
That was a proud nanny-moment.
I remember this one because it was a really sunny day, and I learned that you should not lean yourself against old tar-soaked wooden posts. So this one ruined a T-shirt. Funnily enough, this was one of the many images with a lot of white space, and it used to get a lot of nice comments from passers by. But when it came to buying it? Then it didn´t have enough ink. Because… when your buying art, your really paying for the amount of lines? Really? Fucking stupid shit like that happened every day drawing on the street.
This one I don´t remember much about. It must have been some sort of market-day, because that crowd is more than just the average flood of tourists. And I must have been sitting elevated, in order to see past the crowds. I think I recall getting a lot of attention and interruption while drawing it, because of sitting on top of afence or electricity-box or something. But not sure.
Anyhow.. More will be uploaded to my new smugmug-gallery, for free use, in the near future. Stay tuned.