Progress in Oil Paint

I haven't painted in a long time. Not since I started Numberism. A friend of mine posed for me a while back and my friend, Ian, took the lovely photographs. Just last month my mother sent me oil paints from my late grandfather, and all the pieces fell together. Opportunity to pick up that brush again.

I'd say my greatest weakness as a painter is a lack of patience. I was always too eager to see the final product, always seeking instant gratification. I suppose Numberism helped me with that. With each row of numbers, more light, more shadows and more dimension came through. At any point, if I were to become too eager, too rushed, the piece would have been ruined. I had to keep my excitement at bay and slowly let the image appear.




Sitting in front of my easel, I feel calmer. I can take my time. There's never been a rush afterall. I have all the time in the world to finish this painting.

I draw a page of the comic book, take a break and put down another layer. It was a painting, after all, that got me the gig drawing the comic.





It's not finished. A lot of this is under painting, but it's getting there. Time to pull out the linsead oil and smooth out the light on her chest.