So I'm an artist and I draw naked people to stay sharp. My other art is figurative in nature but it's a clear departure. I use ink when I draw naked people because I can't erase and it forces me to make decisions. There's nothing wrong with erasing, mind you, and you can use erasing as a tool, it's just not what I prefer. If you have an aversion to naked people, cover your eyes. If you like to look at naked people and appreciate drawing the human figure as an art form that never gets old, here are some naked people. Each is 2' x 3' on paper, Sumi brush and Sumi ink, 5 minute poses. So what you do is you pick a point of reference and center yourself and stare so intently it's unnerving. Not to me, to the person who's posing. Well, it can be. Being a figure model is extremely hard and takes a lot of core strength and skill, especially if they're standing poses. That bottom one, she moved, because it becomes hard to hold VERY fast. People get army weary and such very quickly. That's why longer poses are almost always lying down or sitting, or the model take a bunch of breaks with only a few minutes of the actual pose. You ALWAYS mark their feet on the stand or the floor with chalk first once it's decided so you can get them to where they were. It's often very close, but sometimes not very close at all. :/ EDIT & P.S.: I wrote a short story about a figure drawing marathon that I attend every couple of years. I always wrote like crazy when I was a kid, but after I lapsed into a coma on April 29th, 2003, I woke up a few days later and was left with some fun things and some not so fun things because everything about me became greatly exaggerated. Hypergraphia was one of those things, and I know I write a lot, but it's TAME in comparison. Anyway, the story is called 'Annoying Nude Guy', and Jesus Fck, was he ever an annoying nude guy. Haha, I'll share it later.
My friend, Alessandro, with his latest haul of olive oil in Pienza. I was supposed to go back in September. :/
My psychotic dog, Henry, playing frisbee today. Neighborhood closed park . . . with no-one in it . . . except a psychotic frisbee catching dog: Hahahaha.
Talk in the Empire State is the emperor is keeping all public or commercial pools closed for the summer. Not sure if the lifeguards qualify for unemployment.
Alright, here we go. I am Coronavirused out. I'm gonna go say it in the Politics Forum because somebody needs to say it, and don't you worry, I'm saying it. I'll only go this far here: I go in the woods to get AWAY from Coronapalooza. THE FCK I'M WEARING A MASK IN THE WOODS. I keep a respectful distance when passing others, often crossing way the hell over. Today is roughly the 10th time in as many days that I've gotten dirty looks for not wearing a mask or a scarf. It's the new burqa, AND I'M NOT DOING IT IN THE WOODS. You don't like it, you get the fck out then. Then there's the other half, the cool people, the rational people. Same thing: respectful, responsible distance, but here's the difference . . . stop n chat from 10' away about conditions/directions, exchange pleasantries like NORMAL PEOPLE, remark how great it is to not be wearing a mask . . . IN THE WOODS. It was a terrible day at the Shawangunks. More later.
Found some cool photos. My Daddy during WW II. He scribbled on the back: "Me and my friend The Snake, October 1944, Naples." Snake Plissken? EDIT: I looked at my Daddy's handwriting again. He must have flipped the photo over and wrote on it across his knee because it trails off and gets a little sloppy. It says The Smoke, not The Snake. I'm sure of it. A photo he sent to my Mom (they weren't married yet): To my baby with all my love, Carl." Rocky Marciano standing on the right, my Grandpa seated. My Daddy was very close friends with Rocky's sister, Alice. My Daddy's sister and her husband were very close with Rocky's family. My Daddy's sister introduced my Mom and my Dad because she was good friends with my Grandpa. Rocky was in our house several times. I shipped a bunch of things to my idiot estranged brother after my folks died that were probably worth a lot of money. I didn't want to deal with any of it least of all him so I boxed it up with a short note that simply said, "I thought you might want this." Um, there was a signed pair of Everlasts in there. I did recently find a handful of stray photographs, the one below included: Rocky sparring at the gym on the left: ^That photo is world's better quality, but I was too lazy to scan it in. I see everyone couldn't scroll past the cock and balls fast enough further up so I'll post more of those tomorrow.
I signed up for Ancestry.com and found out my Dad was originally named Milton Harold Leps and he legally changed it to Harold Milton Leps...
That's what I MEANT to say. Occasionally I backslide when I'm tired and say it was a terrible day. The Waterboy is guilty of it burns when I urine. Nobody's perfect, but try to steal my thunder? I must respond.
On the lamb? A criminal with the same name? It's crazy what you get just from oral history. I know on my Mom's side my Grandma had a couple of poisonings on HER Mom's side. Errant husbands. I guess that's why my Grandma always thought 'Arsenic and Old Lace' was a liitle too hilarious . . . ?
I assume these nudes with marked foot locations were sans socks. The remaining question is, "Does Jetophile wear socks while inking nudes?"
Of course I wear socks when I'm drawing or painting. Shoes, too. I can't say I've ever drawn a nude person with their socks on, though. That's weird, lol. I actually just gave strong thought to that. No, I have definitely never drawn a nude person with their socks on. They're not nude, then. They do shuffle around in a robe and slippers on breaks. Which reminds me, I never told my Annoying Nude Guy Story. He was so annoying, I'm annoyed just thinking about it. I promise to dazzle you later. I couldn't decide if I wanted to shoot myself just to get away from him or if I should knock him out with a rock. Either one would've shut him up, but why should I have to punish MYSELF just to get him to stop talking? I started looking around for rocks and saw one that could probably have done the job, but I didn't go through with it in the end. A shame, especially since he showed up again a few years later. His name is Jerry. Fuck you, Jerry.
