After a day at the print studio, I ventured onto campus to see a presentation by Irish photographer Alen Macweeney. If you aren’t familiar with his work, you should really check it out. He screened a short documentary about his stunning photographic work with the traveling people of Ireland in the mid to late 60’s. The only thing more impressive than his composition and subject matter was the humble and honest way he approached his art.
Today’s word was one that appeared, as they rarely do, by leaping from the page and jabbing sharp little pincers into my brain. Okay...just kidding on that one. But, literally as soon as my eyes could focus on it, it jumped (figuratively) out at me. I wasn’t quite sure how to use it yet, but I knew I had to.
crisp adj. Easily broken; brittle; brisk or cold; sharp; clear. v. To make or become crisp.
As I thought about my day, trying to connect it in some way to “crisp”, it hit me. I had spent part of this afternoon at Henry’s (a coffee shop, for those of you who are not familiar with Lawrence) downtown, watching a thunderstorm come in. As the breeze picked up pace and heavy drops of rain began to fall, the hipsters gathered in the doorway, hands cupped; lighting up. The world had become shrill and crisp; the storm’s energy transferring spectacularly to wiry, coffee-infused bodies. I decided to illustrate a version of this scene for today’s piece, using pen to highlight areas of a pencil sketch.
I like the way this one turned out; I haven’t blended pencil in a piece for quite some time.
Thank you for reading; enjoy your night!
Xx
-r
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