Drawing, My Favorite Names

7 Best Places to Learn Drawing Online

A person who wants to learn to draw but has no opportunity to attend an art school (for lack of time or money etc.) today has another option called Internet. YouTube is the biggest source of free art tutorials that you can watch at any time, so it seems ideal, right? Not so much, as it turns out. YouTube is full of people who are ready to teach you while they are not well trained themselves. As a result, you pick up their mistakes instead of real knowledge. And when you are a beginner you can’t see the difference. The only way here is to choose those who know the craft for sure. As I have already past this period of looking for great teachers I can share what I have found. Of course, my list is incomplete and quite subjective, but anyway it can serve someone who is serious about learning to draw but doesn’t know where to start.

Ctrl+Paint

First place to visit is the web site Ctrl+Paint.  The artist behind it is called Matt Kohr and he is able to explain quite complicated things in a short and clear way. The website offers a very big library of free tutorials about basics of drawing and digital painting, as well as various in-depth classes that cost $10 each. I really love this web site.

Proko

Stan Prokopenko

Proko is a name of a web site and also a YouTube channel founded by the artist Stan Prokopenko who creates free short video tutorials that allow to learn complex subjects in small portions. Proko teaches an academic approach to drawing and the major subject here is human figure and portraits. Lately the authors started a caricature course which follows the same scheme of short and entertaining tuts. Those who are ready to pay can buy detailed in-depth courses on anatomy, figure and portrait drawing and caricature. I am subscribed to Proko’s YouTube channel to stay in tune.

Marshall Vandruff

Thanks to Proko, I discovered Marshal Vandruff, a fantastic artist and teacher who explains perspective better than anybody I could find. On his web site you can download 1994 Perspective Drawing Series (it’s kind of old, but the perspective rules don’t change, you know) which consist of 12 lectures, each is about 30 minutes long. It costs only $12. Also, Vandruff conducts seminars on such subjects as human and animal anatomy, composition, visual storytelling etc. Check his web site to know more, I’m sure you’ll find something that will work for you.

CreatureArtTeacher

Aaron Blaise

Aaron Blaise is a wild-life artist and animator who worked for Disney for about twenty years. Today he dedicates his time to personal projects and educating artists. He creates hours-long tutorials on animal and human anatomy, character design and animation that you can buy on his web site. The average price is $60-75 for a course, but the courses are often on sale, so if you are patient you can buy them with a big discount. Plus you can buy a yearly subscription which includes everything that is already on the web site and will be issued during the year. You can find sneak peeks from the tutorials on Aaron Blaise’s YouTube channel, as well as regular online sessions where he demonstrates his working process when creating illustrations from a sketch to final touches. Aaron Blaise is very inspiring, and I love one of his paintings so much that I installed it as a wallpaper on my PC screen.

Schoolism

The founder of Schoolism Bobby Chiu claims that he created it to be able to learn from the best visual artists and that he often takes classes himself hiding behind a random name. The level of classes on Schoolism varies from beginner to advanced and the spectrum of subjects covers everything, from fundamentals to portfolio reviews. Whether you want to study realistic oil painting or caricature, storyboarding or environment design, concept art or sculpting you’ll find it here. Just to mention some names, the teachers are Thomas Fluharty, Nathan Fowks, Jason Selier, Stephen Silver, Terry Whitlatch and Bobby Chiu himslef. To get an access to classes you have to buy a yearly subscription that costs $299,40. Bobby Chiu also has his YouTube channel where he discusses a wide variety of issues and posts interviews with outstanding artists.

SVS Learn

Will Terry

The Society of Visual Storytelling is an online art school founded by artists Will Terry and Jake Parker and oriented mostly at illustrators interested in children’s literature. The classes are of different length and level, from beginners to advanced, and the subjects are also very different: fundamentals, inspiration sources, drawing animals, character design, perspective, color, composition etc. The prices start at $10, but you can also buy a monthly or yearly subscription which gives you an access to the entire video library. The monthly pay is $14,99, but I heard the prices are planned to be doubled quite soon. Check this web site, I am sure you will find something that will suit your needs.

I also follow Will Terry’s YouTube channel where he shares his personal and professional experience connected to the world of kidlit and answers his followers’ questions.

Barnstone Studios

This web site offers a quite unusual approach to drawing which I am sure you cannot find anywhere else. It is based on geometry and Golden Ratio – the principles that Myron Barnstone considers the most important in the classical school of drawing. The course I watched is called Introductions to Drawing Systems. It is pretty expensive ($349), very interesting, very informative and very complicated. I had to see every lecture for three times to truly get what Barnstone meant. But it was totally worth it because it is so much easier for me now to analyze form and composition, and I can even understand – finally! – how to inscribe a sphere in a cube. I have to add that Myron Barnstone passed away in 2016, but his legacy of teaching lives on.

Well, that’s it. This is the list of the web sites I find helpful for those who want to improve their drawing skills. Congratulations if you were able to read it all through! If you are aware of a great source of knowledge I haven’t mentioned, please leave your comment to share it with everybody else.

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Writing

Restart

There are many people who start a blog, then drop it and later come back. Obviously, I am one of them. In 2014, (it is a bit scary to think how long ago it was) I decided I needed a blog, and for a long half a year I struggled with it trying to prove to myself God knows what. Then, exhausted, I left it to gather tons of virtual dust.

Now I have a wish to revive it, though I will change many things. First of all, the major subject. I will keep looking for inspiration and ways to be creative, but I won’t think anymore why I should write. I believe now that all you do in life, at least in your spare time, should be done not because it has to be done (for whatever reason), but simply because it is fun and you enjoy doing it. So I won’t push myself to write daily or even weekly. Once in a while I will simply think aloud about things I find interesting.

My interests, by the way, shifted in the last years. Drawing has become the centre of my life and is pushing aside all other hobbies. That’s why visual arts will become a leading theme of my blog. Funny facts about art or drawing techniques, some artists’ fantastic works or a cloud that looks like a pencil – anything will do. If you are curious about what is going on in my head you are welcome to read this blog. Weigh anchor, ahead we go!

Flash-fiction

Nobody… Anymore…

04_illustrations

“Don’t cry.” She presses the doll tight to her chest and whispers, “It will be fine. Nobody will hurt you anymore.” She stands outside the burning house watching the firemen extinguish the remnants of the fire.

The policeman wraps her up in a blanket. “What’s your name?”

“Annie.”

“How old are you, Annie?”

“I’m seven.”

“Do you live in this house?”

She nods.

“Was your mom in the house when the fire started?”

“No, she wasn’t there. Mom’s still at work.”

“So you were alone?” The policeman writes in his notebook.

“No, Bill was home.”

“Who is Bill?”

“He’s Mom’s boyfriend.”

“Can you tell me what happened?”

“Today or yesterday?”

The policeman looks puzzled. “Something happened yesterday?”

She nods.

“Tell me about yesterday.”

“Bill made Mimmy cry.”

“Is Mimmy your sister?”

“No.” The girl shakes her head and points at the doll, “This is Mimmy. And he made her cry.”

“What did he do? Did he hit you… or her?” The policeman frowns.

“No. Bill told me to come to his room. He took Mimmy and dropped her on the floor. Then he took off his pants and lay on the bed. He said, “Come here and sit on it.” I didn’t want to, but he made me. Then he said, “Don’t tell Mom.” I took Mimmy and went to my room. Mimmy cried all night. It hurt. It still hurts.”

The policeman keeps writing in his notebook, his fingers tremble slightly. “Did you tell your mom?”

The girl shakes her head. “No, he told me not to.”

The policeman nods. “Now, Annie, can you tell me what happened today?”

She nods. “Bill came home and called for me.”

“You were in your room?”

She nods. “I was with Mimmy. She was afraid.”

“Then what happened?”

“I took Mimmy and came downstairs. Bill took a beer from the fridge and told me to come to his room when he called for me. Mimmy and I waited in the kitchen. Mimmy cried.”

“Did he call for you?”

“No. Mimmy wanted to hide in my room, but Bill told me to wait for him in the kitchen so I had to stay there. I waited for a while. He didn’t call for me so I tiptoed upstairs to see what he was doing. He was sleeping. I went downstairs to the garage. I know where he keeps gasoline. I took the can and went back upstairs. I spilled gasoline in front of his door and then went back to the kitchen. I know where Mom hides cigarettes and a lighter. I took the lighter and went upstairs. When the fire started I took Mimmy and we left the house. Lucy ran away too.”

“Who is Lucy?”

“She’s my dog. She’s over there. She got scared when the firemen arrived. I’m not scared. I’m waiting for Mom.” The girl smiles at her doll. “And Mimmy is not crying anymore.”

Sketching

Self-Made Boundaries

I think I’m a reasonable person. At least most of the time. But still, pretty often I find myself doing a very strange thing. I procrastinate.

I know what I like to do and why. I know what goal I want to achieve and what exactly I have to do to get there. But I don’t do it. I used to look for excuses, like, I have no time, I am not ready, I need to learn more about how to do it… Now I know it is all crap. These all are made-up reasons not to do what I have decided to do. So I don’t look for an excuse anymore. I just don’t do anything. Yep, as simple as that. I don’t even promise myself I’ll start next Monday. I know so well that Monday will come and go, and I won’t move a finger.

I believe every psychological issue has a root, and there’s no sense to try to fix yourself until you find this root, the seed that caused the whole problem. Looking for this seed, I have read so many articles explaining reasons for procrastination. They all make sense, but something is missing. I understand why people procrastinate, in general; I understand it, really, but I can’t apply this knowledge to change my own route, my personal approach. All those ready answers, like fear of failure or fear of success, don’t help; they don’t seem to be right or personal enough to explain what forces me to sabotage my own plans when I have developed a step-by-step strategy and a strict schedule. Am I that lazy or don’t I care enough? Maybe my goals are not really mine? Maybe I’m nuts and ask too many absurd questions?

“My doctor told me I shouldn’t work out until I’m in better shape.” This is my vicious circle. Thank you, Steven Wright, for putting it in words for me. I can’t start changing until something changes, who knows how and when.

Can it be that procrastination is my destiny and all I have to do is surrender? I think it can be, especially if I choose Steven Wright as my best adviser. “I bought some batteries, but they weren’t included.” Yeah, exactly, I know what he’s talking about.

 

The Daily Post

Sketching

The Turmeric Turmoil, or The Danger of Easy Solutions

“I look old and I hate it,” I say to a friend over Skype. “Should I try some fancy anti-aging cream?”

“Try a homemade mask,” she says and sends me a Youtube link. “It’s a Brazilian woman, she’s very popular.”

I don’t speak Portuguese but click on the link anyway. The ‘Brazilian’ woman is blond and speaks English with an Australian accent.

The recipe of the homemade mask that promises youth and beauty in ten minutes and forever is simple. A tablespoon of turmeric powder, some milk, two drops of oil. The ‘Brazilian’ applies the mix to her face to demonstrate how smoothly it looks. Then she washes it off and claims that, due to this mask, she always looks young and fresh and pretty without any make-up.

“Well, she is young and fresh and pretty,” I think. “She barely needs any mask at all.” But I have an hour before my son leaves school so I decide to give it a try. What do I have to lose?

I prepare the pumpkin-colored mix and spread it over my face. When the mask dries I rinse it off and look at myself in the mirror.

My skin looks fresh and smooth and pretty. And it’s bright-yellow.

“Oh my god!” I’m ready to faint. “I have to leave in half an hour! And go outside! Where there are people!”

I grab face cleanser and nervously rub it into my face. My face is still yellow. I grab soap. It works. The yellow turns green. My skin is still surprisingly soft and tender. I could be the most attractive corpse in the cemetery beauty pageant.

“I have to leave in ten minutes!”

I call to the friend who sent me the damn link and skip all the preambles, “My face is green because of this stupid mask! Was it a prank?”

My friend sounds innocent and surprised, “Has it stained your skin? Really? They should inform about this, don’t you think?”

“I’ve no time to think! What can I do?”

“Uhm… Well… Maybe, try olive oil. They say it cleans the skin.”

I hang up. I won’t add greasy glitter to my already olive face. I take a deep breath and think. Then I grab a bottle of baby cream and a roll of kitchen towels. After five minutes of aggressive scrubbing I sit before a huge pile of dirty paper, and a desperate red face with greyish-green spots all over it looks at me from the mirror.

I give up. Seven blocks of shame on the way to school are inevitable.

In the street, I fix on the tips of my shoes. I don’t look at people. They look at me.

I rush into the school, grasp my son’s hand and turn to leave.

“Are you all right?” My son’s teacher stares at me. “You seem… agitated.”

“Uhm… Yeah… I don’t feel well.” I put my hand on the stomach to prove it and pull my son outside.

We almost run home and bump into Mrs. Gossip right next to the house.

“Hi Joan! Have you heard what happened to…” She breaks off and stares at me for fifteen long seconds.

Great! Now all neighbors will talk about my green face.

“You look… somewhat younger,” she finally says. “Have you used Botox?”

I search for sarcasm in her eyes but find only disapproval and envy. She keeps talking about how inappropriate it is to do what I’ve done, but I don’t listen. She said ‘younger’! The mask works! I’ll have to do it again!

Flash-fiction

Burnt Match

Image Credit: Januz Miralles
Image Credit: Januz Miralles

Matt arrived late. When he entered the church it was already crowded. Numerous colleagues and students sat on the benches and looked at the coffin where the Dean lay. Matt breathed in thick air and felt overwhelmed with the suffocating vibe of death. He made a hasty step to leave but then changed his mind and only loosened his tie. He leaned against the wall near the entrance door and looked at the widow. As always, he couldn’t take his eyes off her face.

Wrapped in a long black dress that accentuated thinness of her body, she seemed more fragile than ever. Her red curly locks, which usually hung loose to her shoulders, were now hidden under the strict black hat. Her stiff, straight posture and a slight tilt of the head made her look like a burnt match. She stood near the coffin and shook hands with people that kept coming over to her to express their condolences.

“She doesn’t hear them,” Matt watched her force a mechanical nod. “She doesn’t see them. She’s barely there.”

Last time Matt saw her at the Dean’s birthday party. She laughed at her husband’s awkward jokes holding onto his shoulder, and the flame of her hair danced along the rhythm of her laughter. Matt chuckled too, not able to resist her contagious joy.

“What does she see in him?” Matt looked at the Dean’s bald head. “His thick glasses? His false teeth?”

“Well, it’s not fair,” he said to himself. “He’s not so old to have false teeth. But he’s too old for her.”

Now he was too dead. Matt looked at the corpse in the coffin. There were no glasses on the Dean’s nose; and he didn’t smile to show his horse teeth. He looked calm and secure as if he knew that, even dead, he still owned her, as if he was sure that now, leaving this world, he would take all her warmth and brightness with him so that she could never look at anyone else the way she used to look at him.

Matt wanted to come up to her and look into her eyes and say something nice and encouraging. He wanted to try and erase the lines of pain destroying the beauty of her pale face. But he kept standing next to the wall. He was afraid to meet the dark emptiness of her look which replaced lively sparkles that had always flicked in her smiley eyes. For the first time he didn’t want her to know he was there.

He left the church, not waiting till the end of the ceremony. She won’t notice anyway. She won’t care. He had always been in the shadow of her love for another man. Now, he will stay in the shadow of this man’s death.

Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie

The Daily Post

Sketching

Coming Back to the Road

I’ve been blogging for about half a year. By no means it is long enough to say I am an expert or anything, but I have felt comfortable with my own writing routines. Or it seemed so a couple of weeks ago.

I spent last two weeks away from the blogosphere revising my aims and goals, and it made me lose connection with the writing habit that I considered to be pretty solid. It feels as if I was going along a road that I knew would bring me somewhere, but then I stepped aside, just for a moment, and sat down on the grass and looked up at the sky, at white clouds slowly float above. And when it’s time to get back to the road I am not so sure anymore if the path that seemed to be mine is really mine. I don’t know if I have chosen the right direction or if I actually want to go anywhere.

I kept asking myself whether I should blog if I am not sure why I am doing it.

Today I got up at six in the morning. I had no reason to do so, but I woke up with a sudden wish to jot something down. Does it mean that I have been missing writing all this time and that I need to take to it again? Probably yes. In the end, it doesn’t really matter if I know where the road goes. It goes somewhere, and, while I enjoy walking, why not pace along?

There were several times in my life when I felt an unexplained urge to do something new. I never questioned it, I just followed it. And years later, when looking back, I can see surprisingly pleasant results those initial impulses brought me to, although then, in the very beginning, I had no idea of what would await me ahead.

I guess it’s the same with blogging or writing in general. I don’t know where it will bring me. But I can go on and see what happens. When something pushes you from inside you should give in to that urge even if you can’t decipher the message of your inner self yet.

It is so easy to shut down and lose the habit of expressing yourself, especially after a couple of discouraging remarks from people who judge you by your words. But the truth is you don’t write for anyone else. You write because you want to say something out loud, to let go of the ideas and feelings that boil up in your head; otherwise they will have to steam out through your ears and nostrils or run out as tears through your eyes.

Come back to posting your tiny little thoughts, I say to myself. You need it, so just do it. As simple as that. Keep telling what wants to be told. And even if your way of expressing yourself is awkward and full of silly mistakes you still have the right to speak. While speaking aloud, you learn to free your heart and be who you are.