Art School! (Very Bad Pictures of Very Rouch Sketches)

I went to my first ever studio classes this week. Two of them. One Drawing, one Painting, though we just drew in that one this week, too.

Few reasons for this new venture. I've always thought the whole notion of writing about art—critically, academically, or whimsically—without any experience of doing it, or without any experience of what artists get taught, has got to leave you with a relatively limited frame of reference. Also, I like drawing and, hopefully, painting (will find out next week.) I didn't realise this until a couple of years ago, and I've certainly never developed a habit out of it, but whenever I do get around to hauling out a sketchbook (I'd say once or twice a year) I've really liked the process and have generally end up comically infatuated with what I've created. Not that it's 'good work' in a professional artist sense, but I'm pretty fascinated with how your hands can make something out of nothing.  I guess that's just two reasons. More than enough.

These are some very badly lit iPhone shots of my first drawrings. I think they're pretty cute, if nothing else. Chalk it up to comic infatuation. 

Obviously terrible, but the instructor said it had 'personality' and that it reminded her of Philip Guston.
She's a nice lady. I'll take it.