Gingerbread Fixings

I hadn't done anything yet about paintings to go with desserts for the cookbook. One of our faves around the library for birthday celebrations is Gramercy Tavern's gingerbread as recreated and shared by Smitten Kitchen (what?! you don't know Smitten Kitchen? you're in for a treat), so I gathered a few of the ingredients--molasses, cinnamon and eggs--and painted them.

Last time I painted eggs, I did the drawing first in pen; and the thing with eggs is, if you get their shape even a smidgen off, they don't look so much like eggs as they do misshapen potatoes. So for this illustration I eschewed the pen and stuck to pencil.

It's funny--back before I took Brenda Swenson's sketch journaling workshop and started drawing almost exclusively with pen, I would draw and erase, draw and erase, draw and erase, and take forever to get it right. But since you don't have that option with pen, you have to just go for it. You have to really LOOK at what you're drawing, and do your best to put it on paper, and if you have an occasional jog where you meant to jig, well, so be it. I assumed, therefore, that when I went back to pencil, I would draw, as I did with a pen, with more confidence and less waffling. I do think I have a better chance of getting it right the first time now, but in fact, I discovered today that when I have the option of erasing and fixing, I do still take advantage. Perhaps that was good for this painting, since the eggs do look more like eggs, and the angles on the tops and lids are a bit more realistic. Also, it's easier to get the effect of see-through glass without pen lines. But I did miss having that definite outline to paint to!

Photoshop Fix

Better? I'm not the best with repainting using Photoshop...

Today's efforts

One man-made (well, nature-made but then caught, killed, and canned for convenience), one nature-made, although purposefully grown for market.

First, Charlie Tuna. The top of the can is a little wonky as to angle--I still have trouble with perspective. It's an unending fight between what my brain knows to be true (it's a circle) and what my eye sees from an angle (it's an ellipse). Brain and eye compromised a little here, so it's not quite right--in fact, now that I really see it, it kind of looks like the lid is sinking into the can! I may have to do this one over...

And, a nice bunch of organic celery. As with the broccoli from the other day, it's hard to get the layers of organic material all in there, but at this point, as long as it resembles what I intended it to be, I'm happy.

An American Tradition

Ah, the simple can of Campbell's Cream of Mushroom soup--what would American "cuisine" be without it? From the infamous Classic Green Bean Casserole so prevalent at holiday dinners to the 18 kinds of one-dish chicken-and-something concoctions, the contents of this can are pervasive. Campbell's Kitchen lists 1326 recipes using CofM!

My ex-husband's favorite quickie meal was to dump a can of this in a saucepan with a can of tuna (liquid included), some shredded cheddar cheese, and a splash of Chardonnay or Chablis (whatever was open). He'd stir that up and heat it through; then he'd pull a cookie sheet of crispy hot Tater Tots out of the oven, dump them in a bowl, and smother them in "gravy." Yes, it sounds repulsive. Yes, I have been known to make it as comfort food when I'm home sick with a cold. Don't tell anyone.

The famous can wasn't as simple to paint as it is to use, however--I tried this one three times in two hours, and I'm going with this one, warts and all. Andy Warhol it ain't (and anyway, his ultimate icon of choice was Tomato)--but I think it will do for our cookbook.

Peachy?

Okay, I bought peaches--yellow peaches--and I painted them. So--peachy? or still indeterminate between peach and nectarine? I tried to think peachily while I dabbed away. . .

Next up, that staple of American cooking, a can of cream of mushroom soup!

Quit while you're ahead

I got done with the drawing of this one and I knew I should start over. But I liked more than half of it, so I deluded myself that I could save it by painting it. I forged ahead and spent another 90 minutes watercoloring, and...I should have started over.

I began the drawing at the top left of the flour bag, which makes some sense, but then when I got to the vanilla bottle, I drew that and it wasn't quite where it should have been, and then I drew the cinnamon (which looks tipsy) before I drew what it was sitting on, leaving the butter until last, and something that is perfectly geometric came out too big and flattened weirdly and not at all shaped like a stick of butter. I should have started with the foreground (the butter) and moved backwards. And I will, the next time I draw it. (Also, the shadows were weird.)

I'm putting it up as an object lesson in how not to become so enamored with one part of the work that you ignore all the problems! Too bad--I don't have much time for do-overs if I'm going to finish this project! I thought about removing the shadow on the left, and then redrawing just the butter and cinnamon and dropping them in via Photoshop, but...probably less work just to start again.

Nectarines masquerading as Peaches

Okay, I confess it--I was supposed to illustrate some peaches for a recipe, and all I had in the house was nectarines, so I thought, "Who could tell the difference in a painting?" The thing is, I think I can!

There's something smoother and richer in color about nectarines as opposed to softer (in texture and in color) about peaches, and for all my efforts, these look like nectarines to me. What do you think? Can I get away with it? Or do I need to head out to the farmer's market tomorrow morning and get some real peaches to draw and paint?

Overworked shadows, as usual. Somebody has to tell me "the secret."

Next drawing: Something with packaging. I'm getting burnt out on veg and fruit.