Life is a game of inches
Take a look at these two details from Big Maurice...
Here we are at Point A:
And here we are at Point B:
The shortest distance between two points is typically a straight line. We have, apparently, chosen a more circuitous route. Nonetheless, having screwed around with the the nose I find that, whoa, suddenly the rest of the face seems to be coming around.
And the fact of the matter is, all I really did was add some shadowing to the bottom of the bulb of his nose, and a little bit more shadow descending his flume, and maybe a little work defining the flume itself more clearly, and a slight rethinking of the line running from his right nostril (image left) to the corner of his mouth, and a bit of something on the upper part of his chin to help define the lower line of his lower lip, and a goober of red to define the left side (image right) of his face, ditto the bag under his left eye (I can't keep saying things like 'image right'--at a certain point you just have to keep up), and, by God, I think I might have it.
I was going to spend Sunday screwing around with the mouth. Now I'm liking it. Plus the rest. I'm going to spend Sunday screwing around with other stuff.
Like his eyes.
Which is fine.
Horatio Hornblower, when angry at a subordinate, would sometimes shout, "Damn your eyes, Sir!" This is what I'm shouting at Hank Greenberg. Because Hank Greenberg is all about the relationship between that voluptuous upper lip and the curl of his mouth. And, having achieved what I think I need to achieve in that particular department, the eyes are just gravy.
And speaking of food, I'm going to get up tomorrow, buy the Times, settle in at Belleville, order their Eggs Mediterranian, eat it, go for a bike ride, and then--only then-roll down the hill to the studio. Rumor has it that the guy from Paris Match is going to show up, but I haven't heard from him so we'll see.
Here we are at Point A:
And here we are at Point B:
The shortest distance between two points is typically a straight line. We have, apparently, chosen a more circuitous route. Nonetheless, having screwed around with the the nose I find that, whoa, suddenly the rest of the face seems to be coming around.
And the fact of the matter is, all I really did was add some shadowing to the bottom of the bulb of his nose, and a little bit more shadow descending his flume, and maybe a little work defining the flume itself more clearly, and a slight rethinking of the line running from his right nostril (image left) to the corner of his mouth, and a bit of something on the upper part of his chin to help define the lower line of his lower lip, and a goober of red to define the left side (image right) of his face, ditto the bag under his left eye (I can't keep saying things like 'image right'--at a certain point you just have to keep up), and, by God, I think I might have it.
I was going to spend Sunday screwing around with the mouth. Now I'm liking it. Plus the rest. I'm going to spend Sunday screwing around with other stuff.
Like his eyes.
Which is fine.
Horatio Hornblower, when angry at a subordinate, would sometimes shout, "Damn your eyes, Sir!" This is what I'm shouting at Hank Greenberg. Because Hank Greenberg is all about the relationship between that voluptuous upper lip and the curl of his mouth. And, having achieved what I think I need to achieve in that particular department, the eyes are just gravy.
And speaking of food, I'm going to get up tomorrow, buy the Times, settle in at Belleville, order their Eggs Mediterranian, eat it, go for a bike ride, and then--only then-roll down the hill to the studio. Rumor has it that the guy from Paris Match is going to show up, but I haven't heard from him so we'll see.
posted by Geoffrey at 9:12 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home