Just got off the phone with John Beckett, one of our best photographers. He is on his way into the Superstition Mountains to take a photo of an alleged gold bar sticking out of a half-buried case in a top secret location. Two guys from New England supposedly discovered it. These "finds" happen almost like clockwork every two years, or so.
I told John to keep me in the loop, because you never know when it might turn out to be the real deal.
Did my six sketches last night after I got home from work. Studied a Maynard Dixon (middle, left) and got some decent cloud shadows.
These sketches have also inspired me to expand on the bottom left two-tone sketch of the shimmering mountain the background, all done with a light monochrome wash. This is what artists call a "happy accident." I had intended to add to this scene, but because of the loosey goosey-ness of the procedure (laying six washes on the page and then going back to all six with different colors, experimenting with different shapes and forms). But it was late, I was rushed and I let it go, and later looked at it from a distance and thought, "Man, that has some potential." Sometimes we hit on these crafty less-is-more moments. Which makes the entire effort worthwhile, right there alone. And, by the way, these are sketches 8,040—8,045.
Like most effort, this whole mandatory six sketches a day process was a total pain when I was starting out, and I wanted to quit many times, but just like with running (or so they tell me) you eventually break through the initial nausea and hit something called a runner's high, which becomes addictive and you then feel incomplete and out of sorts if you don't do it.
Still, this sounds too negative. Maybe Mr. Coward has a better way of saying this?
"Work is much more fun than fun."