I learned to draw everything except glamorous women. No matter how much I tried to make them look sexy, they always ended up looking silly... or like somebody's mother.
Things aren't much wilder now, I don't think, than they were back then. Of course I just read about all the goings-on now. Ha.
A face in the picture would bother me, so I'd rub it out with the turpentine and do it over.
I talk as I sketch, too, in order to keep their minds off what I'm doing so I'll get the most natural expression I can from them. Also, the talking helps to size up the subject's personality, so I can figure out better how to portray him.
The remarks about my reaching the age of Social Security and coming to the end of the road, they jolted me. And that was good. Because I sure as hell had no intention of just sitting around for the rest of my life. So I'd whip out the paints and really go to it.
Here in New England, the character is strong and unshakable.
