I usually scan my A4 and A5 sketchbook pages in grayscale and adjust the colour to match the tanned pages of my smaller A6 pocket book, but today I decided against that and opted for a slightly larger file size to fully illustrate (no pun) the obvious reason for todays blog title.
I'd been sitting in a comfortable chair in front of my monitor doing some quick studies from a selection of movie screen captures, when I was suddenly faced with the impromtu arrival of colour on my sketchbook page. The initial confusion didn't last long though, and I quickly located the source of this scarlet intrusion. A bleeding knuckle.
The tiny tiumphant feeling I got from the sucessful use of my limited observational skills rapidly evaporated as I was plunged into a second, deeper confusion. How did I cut my knuckle when I had been sitting in a nice soft chair away from any noticable sharp edges (apart from the point of a 2B graphite pencil which was obviously spending all it's time pointing away from my hand and towards the paper) for a good 15 minutes?
To attain the answer, I had to remove myself from the room, spend a further 10 plus minutes trying to stem the annoyingly obstinate flow of blood, and rely on the oft helpful intellectual enlightenment (sudden lightbulb *ping*) that comes from having a pee.
So how did I cut myself?
Answer: I didn't. I just knocked off a little scab I had aquired at work a few days ago. :-)
So what did I learn today?
I'd been sitting in a comfortable chair in front of my monitor doing some quick studies from a selection of movie screen captures, when I was suddenly faced with the impromtu arrival of colour on my sketchbook page. The initial confusion didn't last long though, and I quickly located the source of this scarlet intrusion. A bleeding knuckle.
The tiny tiumphant feeling I got from the sucessful use of my limited observational skills rapidly evaporated as I was plunged into a second, deeper confusion. How did I cut my knuckle when I had been sitting in a nice soft chair away from any noticable sharp edges (apart from the point of a 2B graphite pencil which was obviously spending all it's time pointing away from my hand and towards the paper) for a good 15 minutes?
To attain the answer, I had to remove myself from the room, spend a further 10 plus minutes trying to stem the annoyingly obstinate flow of blood, and rely on the oft helpful intellectual enlightenment (sudden lightbulb *ping*) that comes from having a pee.
So how did I cut myself?
Answer: I didn't. I just knocked off a little scab I had aquired at work a few days ago. :-)
So what did I learn today?
Blood dries a lot slower on paper than I would have previously thaught - had I took the time to think about it.
Sherlock Holmes' methods of combining logic and elimination actually do work and are useful in every day situations.
"Blood" and "beard", or rather Bloodbeard, is a great name for a fictitious pirate.
Writing a rather long and protracted rant about a single page of my sketchbook which consists of 2 very bad portraits and 1 half decent effort is ludicrous.
2 comments:
:D "not a writer" my ear!
You made me laugh, hard. Thanks, I needed that.
Haha... I'm afraid I am just a scribbler at best, but thank's all the same. :-)
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