Lend a hand
Why call this post “Lend a hand?” For the past several months…ok for the past 406 days, I have been drawing hands. This week I share why I started, what I have learned and why I will continue this practice. And, given our current pandemic ridden world, I think it’s cool to share images of this interesting and important “character” known as the hand.
Wait…is this a Favorite Things blog post? Well, sure it is. Except that today I’m sharing drawings with you not paintings. Oh and today I won’t have anything for sale. If you would like to lend a hand to those in need during this pandemic, here’s a link to the National Directory of Food Banks and the North Carolina Food Bank. I imagine every food bank in the US and the world is taking the phrase “lend a hand” to a whole new level these days. Here’s hoping you might be able to help.
Why Hands
So in April last year, an artist friend asked me if I was interested in committing to 100 days of drawing and posting each drawing on Instagram. I immediately said “Yes, I’ll commit to drawing but no I won’t post on Instagram.” One of the reasons I said “yes but no” is we were weeks away from moving back to North Carolina from Pennsylvania.
I was ready to commit to a daily ‘habit’ or ‘practice’ before I moved away. I chose hands because I knew I wanted to draw something complicated, something from ‘life’ (not from photographs) and something convenient. And, lastly, I recalled a lunchtime lecture by amazing artist David Kassan. He said after he finished art school in Italy, he decided to draw hands everyday for two years. Wow! That was inspiring to hear! But I was and am still self-aware enough that I knew I did not want the added pressure of posting these images to Instagram. Whew…I’m really glad I made that decision.
Why? Well, I think any artist, writer, musician will tell you that recognition is wonderful. But there’s an associated level of angst every time, you/we/I put something out there for general viewing. And, just as an opera singer won’t ask you to listen to her musical scales she practices everyday, I won’t ask you to look at every single daily hand drawing I have drawn.
What I’ve learned
But I will share one or two or three of these drawings with you. And I will also share what I have learned over these past 406 days and counting of drawing. The first thing I have learned is something that I heard over and over again in school. Drawing is a series of corrections.
Wait! That sounds so simple, doesn’t it? Simple does not necessarily mean free of frustration and angst. But I have used this sentence as a way to nudge myself to problem solve.
For instance, I tend to be a pretty loose and, welp, scratchy drawer. Nearly 12 months into this daily practice, I decided to re-assess how I draw. What does that mean? I want to use fewer marks to make the drawing as clear as possible. How can I do that? I studied the anatomy of the hand to help my understanding. Then I use that information to think “Hmmm…how is the light falling on or away from that part of the hand.”
Less is more
OK so the above drawing is an example of fewer lines…hey…fewer not a few…ha! Ultimately, I would love to have these hand drawings show the form of the hand with a few simple lines. But, for right now, I’m not there. And, that, dear reader, is why I will continue to practice the daily hand drawing exercise.
And, there are other drawings and ideas I have been jotting down lately, too. Ultimately, some of these drawings and ideas will percolate to paintings. I can’t wait to share some of these with you soon.
Grateful
I am so grateful to my friend, Wendy Wagner, for suggesting the idea to draw everyday. It has been a rich and wonderful way to cultivate my practice. These days there is the added bonus of the focus on drawing which takes me away from the current madness. How about you? Have you developed a daily habit or practice that helps you cope with this mad, mad world in which we live? If so, please do share in the comments below and thank you!
4 Comments
Beth Dyer Clary
May 29, 2020Well, Julie, learned some new things about and from you. I think the hand or hands are one of my favorite parts of the human body. I can only imagine what it must be like to study one so closely and carefully. I can’t wait to see one of your paintings with hand(s) as the focus. Well, I can but I’ll be very excited.
As you know, I use your weekly posts to write an Ekphrastic story or essay. Here’s what came out of staring at this week’s post:
Never had Phillipa given a second thought to hands. But she was mesmerized by Matthew’s hands. She was embarrassed by how she stared at them.
“They’re just hands!” She said to herself as she walked away from the party where they had just met. “Everyone has hands.”
Phillipa rubbed her right hand with her left as she waited at the crosswalk on Commonwealth Avenue. It was ridiculous to think his handshake had left some sort of imprint or tattoo on her hand. She shook out her hand and stepped off the sidewalk onto the street. The piercing honk of a car horn made her see that she hadn’t waited for the light to change.
“Watch where you’re going, lady!” The cabbie yelled through his open window.
A hand landed on her shoulder startling her yet again and she turned to see who was touching her.
“You okay?” An older, smartly dressed businessman removed his hand the moment he had her attention. “You nearly got hit there. Can I help?”
The light changed and the people around her started crossing Commonwealth Ave. She smiled at the man and said, “I’m fine. Thank you.”
His arched eyebrows suggested he didn’t believe her. He held out his elbow and said, “May I?”
Phillipa was touched by the chivalrous gesture of this older gentleman. She nodded and took his arm as they crossed to the middle medium. They strolled silently up to the next crosswalk where they waited for this light to change.
Phillipa felt compelled to say something. She glanced at his hand to see if he was married and so no ring. She wasn’t sure whether to ask about a wife or not? That was her go-to when meeting older gentlemen as they either had a sad story to tell of their wife’s death or seemed to settle into a sentimental story about their long marriage to the same woman. Phillipa took heart and hope from those stories that a long life married to the same person was still possible, even for her. But now she didn’t know what to ask. So she looked at his hand again and thought of Matthew’s trying to see the differences and therefore, understand what it was about Matthew’s hand that was so distracting.
“You on your way home?” The man asked.
“I am. You?”
“Yes. It’s been a long week in the world of finance and I’m looking forward to my first gin and tonic of the year now that it’s warm outside.”
She smiled. “I love a gin and tonic too.” In fact, she had just refused one earlier at the party. It then occurred to her that this man might be trying to determine if she was drunk and that had marred her judgment on the other side of Commonwealth Avenue. “I haven’t had a drink in some time.”
“Perhaps you’re due after that little scare,” he looked at her with what she decided was fatherly concern.
“I’m more embarrassed than scared.” Phillipa spoke without thought. “I mean that was alarming. But I’m not typically so distracted.”
“Spring fever gets the best of all of us now and again. Here we are,” he nodded toward the light and they began to walk across the other half of the avenue. “It’s been so nice to have a little company. I’m turning west and crossing over here. You?”
She removed her hand from his arm before saying, “I live in Beacon Hill. I’m ever-so-grateful for your kindness.” She held out her hand said, “I’m Phillipa Carter, by the way.”
He took her hand and said, “Desmond Ramsey. Very nice to make your acquaintance, Phillipa.” They shook hands and he waited a second more than she expected to release hers. “Are you quite certain you’re okay walking all the way to Beacon Hill? I’m happy for the exercise if you’d like my company?”
Julie Holmes
May 29, 2020Hi Beth,
What a wonderful ekphrastic poem this week! Is it considered an ekphrastic ‘poem’ when it’s more developed like this one is?
And, it fits (like a glove – ha ha!) my point of view about people and their hands. I have always loved looking at hands from people from all walks of life.
Rest assured I will continue to draw hands but am not sure this daily practice will lead to an actual painting of hands. We’ll see?
I hope you decide to finish this story!
On pins and needles trying to decide if Phillipa decides to join Desmond.
Thanks again for reading and writing such amazing ekphrastic comments here!
Beth Dyer Clary
June 2, 2020Hi, Julie, It’s actually NOT a poem at all. If only … that is not my area of strength as you might imagine. This is a story. Or the start of a story. We’ll see where it goes … one day. I think it’s the equivalent of a sketch for your work.
Love my Thursday morning writing responses to what you post! Always a surprise. I’ll try to remember to actually post them here.
Julie Holmes
June 4, 2020OK! Thanks for the clarification Beth!!!