My previous post marked the first stage of a project I've had in mind since my final working years. Going downtown to work had been something of a thrill in itself, and I'd quickly realized I could take my sketchbook and grab some quick sketches as the wheels on the bus went round and round. My favourite location was not far from SoMa (the so-called trendy South Main area), where the storefronts of Budgie's Burritos and East Vanity Parlour contributed to a fascinating grid of rectangles, and the sidewalks invited passersby to linger.
After finishing several studies based on some of those sketches, I set to work on my ultimate objective -- to paint a small panel that would capture the whole Budgie's streetscape. I've been going through a painting-things-over phase, and I decided that I had just the right panel (about 9" x 26") that I'd used not once, but twice before. It was first a wildly coloured pile of driftwood:
...that was then painted over for a quick study project called "Eyes of the Northwest."
A once-over with a blue-grey wash of paint, and I was ready to begin:
At about the midpoint, I decided I'd let some of the underlying driftwood show through for a little movement.
Here's the grand finale, "Not Far from SoMa," copyright 2015.
Okay, so it's not at all grand. But I cannot tell you how thrilling it was for me to have finally accomplished this years-in-the-incubation-stage painting. All those bus rides, all those quick sketches, the recent painted studies, my enduring fascination with the human figure -- hey, maybe I'll be able to get back to life drawing classes some day.
There's also a funny thing about the dramatis personae in my painting. I mentioned before my affection for this seated "loner" figure (not to be confused with the Incredible Hulk lurking in the background):
Just as I was finishing the painting, I was sorting through some of our still unpacked books and came across a paperback of Plato's Dialogues. On its cover was a detail of Raphael's "School of Athens" with its own seated loner figure (front and centre, pale mauve tunic) that has always intrigued me.
See the connection? I knew that Raphael's scene assembles all the great Greek philosophers (half of whom you'll never have heard of), and I wondered who the loner was. This fabulous website allows you to click on each figure and learn the philosopher's identity.
My little man in mauve is Heraclitus, the guy who said, "You can't step into the same river twice" and many other nifty things. Now cast a glance diagonally to the right of Heraclitus, past the guy on the steps (nobody I know), to the figure in white robe with his back turned. That's Epicurus, and judging by his wrought gestures, he's despairing that the burritos weren't delivered on time.
