Outside every women's dressing room across the nation there is a beleaguered husband holding a purse. He will have an expression of resignation, exasperation, or a thousand yard blank stare. He is loosely holding the purse; not too tightly for fear someone might think it his. He knows this is a thing all men must suffer for the love of their woman.
I don't go shopping with Hubby, but I do ask him to chauffer me around to go sketching. This is my dear Hubby, sitting in the car, with the "Hold My Purse" look waiting on me to finish a sketch. He's staring blankly into nothingness, not even listening to the radio. He's a big ol' sweetie even though he is a little impatient.
Process notes:
I did this sketch from a photo. I wanted to try to capture the different colored reflections on the roof, door and windshield. I also needed to practice drawing a face. I think I did OK with the car, but Hubby's face looks too cartoony. I think the black ink lines are too severe. I tried adding some brown for contour but it didn't help any. Oh well, tomorrow is another day.
When I showed this to Hubby he was *so* tickled I had drawn him. Then he got a sad look on his face and asked, "Do I really look that old?"
2 comments:
Dear Ms. Speck, I found you on Flickr and followed to your blog. Don't know you, but I know I like you. You made me laugh out loud twice now in one minute. Thank you!
Love the bunny slippers as well as your attitude toward life and art!
P. - Thanks! If my warped view of the world elicits just one hearty LOL I've justified my oxygen consumption for the day. :)
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