I was in such a different mood when I began this drawing than where I ended up. I sat down on our living room sofa downstairs, where I seldom draw. Brought my pair of Howell/Roan 283 pipes in my little zippered leather case, set them on the credenza next to me, and started a careful contour drawing. But I couldn't get comfortable, and as I'd already been sitting most of the day in front of my computer modeling a project in AutoCAD, I ran out of patience very quickly. Everything started to irritate me - the shiny indigo paint on the pencil shanks makes it difficult to see what color the leads are, they're round and tend to roll around too easily, they started sliding out of my left hand because I had too many clenched in my fist. Fortunately, I can get away with having my quiet little tantrums on paper. Delicate hatching and subtle tonal gradients get savaged by a rough hand. Fine details are swallowed up by harsh, slashing marks. But nothing gets broken and nobody gets hurt. I didn't even swear. Not very much anyhow, and I kept it to muttering under my breath. The truth is, I'm getting less and less interested in fine detail and much more interested in the tension between raw emotional energy and keeping just enough control to manipulate it into something that has validity as art. And hey, if nothing else, you get to be entertained by another angry drawing!
pair of A Passion for Pipes 2011 Pipe of the Year specimens by Jack Howell, 11 9/16 x 8 1/4, Derwent Inktense pencils