Okay, Blogger images seem to be back online.
This is actually an old drawing, but I decided to post it since it's a direct descendant of the drawing I'm working on right now, which I'll be posting tomorrow.
The boy and the mop were blown up into a seven-foot tall painting, the only good thing I accomplished my first summer at grad school. The drawing is in color, but I posted it in grey tones because the color is the first thing I eliminated when I made it into a painting.
Anyone who thinks they can draw should go to the show of Goya's late works at the Frick. After you've spent a few days in a fetal position, pondering what a hopeless fraud you are, maybe you can find the strength to forge ahead with your feeble 'talent'. There's more personality in one of his drawings than in John Currin's entire output, past and future. I'm not usually such a canon-fucker, and I was actually pretty indifferent to his late portraits, but his drawings are just(insert stream of profanity-laced hyperbole here).
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