Recently I started clearing out some things in my closets, and I came across a long-thought-lost sketchbook from my college days. I was taking a figure drawing class at the time and had been studying a lot of the pen and ink masters around then.
The professor for that class was out of his mind and mostly skulked around the room nodding like a puppet and spouting off hippie wisdom, but he did allow me to experiment with inks rather than use charcoal all the time. (I loathe drawing with charcoal.) I liked that class a lot.
These were the best two of the bunch. I remember I would often get lost in my own music, occasionally incorporating lyrics into the drawing as shading; sometimes I would throw in fragments here and there. I think it was a very good centering exercise and I might return to it. Music and visuals have always been so heavily linked in my work. Sound inspires me.
I was never very good at proportions and depth perception - part of it is, I have really shitty eyesight, the other is that I'm very lazy. But this is an example of drawing completely from life. I do remember that skeleton in our class was an actual human skeleton and not a reproduction. Wonder what that person did to deserve sitting in an art school closet for all eternity? I guess there's worse ways to decompose.