Here’s my second stranger on a train from this morning. I had one stop left. (Warren Street to Euston, completists.)
As so often happens, I ended up liking this very speedy one much more than many of the more deliberate ones.
I’m in Manchester for a couple of days, and drew a couple of strangers on the Tube this morning as I crossed London.
Here’s an older fellow who was sitting just along from where I was standing.
There’s a law somewhere that says if you’re an older, well-to-do sort of chap, you must have hair the mad untamedness of which increases with your well-to-doness. I reckon.
A one-stop shot, this one. We only had the time between Sloane Square and Victoria Tube stations, and that’s not very long. But he was a good lad, and sat nice and still.
I even managed to give a roughly accurate impression of his hand, instead of creating something that looks like a mutilated squid sewn onto his arm. Progress.
Two ladies from the Tube today. The first, an ancient Indian-looking lady, inscribed all over with fine lines and wrinkles. She was chatting intensely to her equally aged friend, and so didn’t take any notice of me sitting opposite. I’d have loved to get her wispy hair too – a wiry, windblown toss of white and shades of grey. But as ever, the transience of public transport got the better of me, and off she went.
The same happened with the other lady, whose looks originated even further to the east. But this was my fault too. I spent so long putting in the background, and then creating a silhouette in which to fill in the detail, I had almost no time for her face.
As a result, she looks vaguely as if she might be wearing some sort of religious robe. In fact, the billowy shapes either side of her head are the waves of her hair, emerging like a tide from the woollen hat gripping the top of her head.
I’ve also got her features a little skewiff, which is a shame, as he heavy eyeliner and bright lipstick created a nicely dramatic effect against her pale skin, itself set against a dark silhouette.
But the solid silhouette kind of suits her: she looked a robust, self-contained woman, well insulated from the world by wool (she had on a big, tassely scarf, too) and her own internal rigour. (I have no idea if she has internal rigour. She just looked like she would have.) So I thought I’d put her up here anyway.
Beards are always good. Not sure why, I just like the meditative accretion of little strokes (made easier by the zoom function in Brushes), bit by bit, one after the other. It’s very calming.
This fellow kept himself very neat. Everything sharply delineated, from crown to chin. A firm, lean face that spoke of good diet and regular workouts. The sort of face that looks like the jaw is permanently clenched. Probably an architect. Or a serial killer. Or both.
His hood really was this big. It was enormous. His head, crowned with a grey baseball cap, sat deep inside it like some creature hiding at the back of a cave, or a mollusc in its shell. I really couldn’t see his eyes.
His friend was sitting opposite him – and next to me, which gave the process of drawing him a little extra frisson. Mind you, they were chatting in an easy, friendly way that made him appear far less intimidating in life than he does in this drawing.
I wish I’d beefed up the red and blue of the jacket he wore under the black and white hoodie. They were bright, primary colours that popped out from all that monochrome in a far more vivid way that they do here. Never mind. I had fun with his moustache.
Here’s a chap I saw on the Tube today, looking like he’d taken a long time finessing his ‘look’: hair just messed up enough; the perfect specs. He looks asleep here, but only because he was looking downwards.
A quick one this, between a couple of stops on the Northern Line just now. The textured brush works brilliantly for stubble, but however much I play with Brushes, the single line just keeps drawing me back (no pun intended).
Here’s a dramatic-looking lady from the Tube the other day, about whom I’d quite forgotten until I found her waiting patiently on the iPad.
She was all thick, black, glossy hair, heavy black leather jacket – and, yes, a great expanse of chest. Well, when you’re standing right over people, that’s the view. I try not to look like a pervert doing these, but it’s not always easy.
All I can say is that boobs – even gender – are irrelevant to my choices of subject. And I think previous posts bear this out, thankfully. (Just so we’re clear, that white line is her iPhone headphone cable. You knew that, right?)
Did a couple of sketches today, mostly abortive as people kept getting off. (The train, not with each other.) But I had a little inspiration on one of them, which was to whack in a background and then ‘cut out’ a silhouette of the subject to draw into.
I tried it again here, as you can see, and it worked quite well. The girl in question was reading her book, which always helps: the more absorbed they are, the less they wriggle about. Mind you, she looked quite like Clémence Poésy, which was a little distracting.
(Oh, forgot to mention: I bought a new stylus. Two, actually. These. They work really nicely.)