Last week, I found myself in an unexpected predicament. Strike that. Last week, I got myself into a bit of a mess with the final stages of a cat portrait as I’d left a challenging decision to the end (likely telling myself I needed more context when the reality probably was that I was so excited to start I didn’t think it all the way through). Anyway… I was finishing a commission - a gorgeous cat portrait - but the reference photo cut off at an awkward spot. 'No problem,' I thought, 'I know enough about cats to just... make up the rest.'
Yes and no.
I tried. Something felt fundamentally off. The proportions looked wrong, but I couldn't pinpoint why. Where exactly would the elbow joint sit? How do the shoulder blades connect? Down the rabbit hole I went (typical academic tendency!), sketching cat skeletons to find answers.
Plot twist: Sometimes anatomy knowledge doesn't solve everything. The angle of this particular cat was always going to look awkward. We went with a tighter crop. But here's what I gained - a much deeper understanding of the framework that sits beneath every cat I'll ever draw.
There's a part of me that still longs to capture essence quickly, to freehand sketch like I dreamed of as a child (when I saw those artists on TV make it look so effortless!). And another part that craves the detail and realism that coloured pencils offer. I'm discovering I can have both… in my own form of sketchy realism…