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strbry-shortcakes · 7 months

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taking some extra anatomy classes this year, here are some of my notes in case they could help someone. should be updated every weekend (aside from october 28th and november 4th which are free days) with the following lesson's notes. (further explanations at the end)

anyway. here goes:

SCENE 0-1: LEARNING HOW TO LOOK/OBSERVE

when drawing, we each more or less have our own methods when approaching certain subjects, with multiple tools at our disposal in order to achieve the desired results.

but generally, when drawing a model (or most things from life, actually) we can in some sort of way define a general order as to when to draw what:

Looking / Observing

Blocking In

Correcting

Details

for today i’ll focus on the first one of the list, looking / observing.

the existing nuance between “seeing” and “looking” exists in the sense that “seeing” is more passive than “looking”. when you say “i can see a cat”, you aren’t paying too much attention to the cat. but when you say “i am looking at a cat’, you are actively paying attention to the cat and what they’re doing.

(given the class is in French, the nuance was similar, using the words “voir” and “regarder”. but due to French not having a close equivalent to “watch” i cannot make more parallels about this, as my knowledge of English and French-to-English translation is still fairly limited)

when looking at a subject, the primary objective should be to understand what you’re looking at. you can look at a subject (or the world as a whole) under multiple filters: values, hues, proportions, in 2D or 3D, and so on. you need to define how you want to look at a subject following these filters of vision. what do you want to look at first? what do you want the viewer to look at first? this is important to define before you put your tool to your support.

generally when drawing from life, it’s a bit reckless to rush to draw the model without actually observing them a minimum. you should take the time to observe, you are allowed to take your time to observe. no amount of limited time should paralyze you from examining the model the best you can before you put your tool to use.

getting this more precise vision of your model can give you a better vision of their body, which is often hidden under detail. when drawing them, you should ask yourself “how is the model posing?”

why look/observe? (probably like the most given piece of advice by pros and art youtubers who aren’t pros but still get called pros cause they have 1 million subscribers on youtube)

this question is very easily asked but also very easily answered:

to know how and what you’re going to draw

to time yourself correctly and have a good time management (drawing a pose in 2 minutes is completely different to drawing a 10 minutes one), thus,

to avoid rushing to draw the subject. as said previously, take your time. start slow, but stay accurate to the model. (teacher compared it to a musician rehearsing a piece, first slowly, then speeding it up progressively as he gets to know the piece itself better and better. unfortunately as someone who is as farthest from a musician as can be, i cannot honestly attest to if this is accurate).

but really, there is actually no such thing as a “finished” drawing. a graphite drawing could always have color added afterwards, a painting could always get more and more detailed. a piece is “finished” only when you deem it is finished. the French Académie des Beaux Arts didn’t like the Impressionists because to them, what the impressionists were doing were half assed jobs, since the idea of “transmitting a vague feeling, or an emotion through a specific style of very visible strokes” was absolute fuckery to them. speaking of,

to transmit an emotion, or a feeling through the posing of the model. the more technical and controlled the strokes will be, the finer the wanted sensation will be felt by the viewer. this also ties in the physical aspect of the model. ideally, in order to achieve this, you can try posing the same way the model does. it may be a bit awkward but it works (depending on your learning type, of course.)

to understand how the whole “body system” works. “i know the rules of the human body, therefore i make little to no mistakes.”

adding a whole context to the pose helps: adding a situation in which the pose could work in gives some meaning to your drawing, as well as helping you remember it better. it also adds a narrative element to your drawing(s), which are absolutely always a plus. (memorization is also an important tool!)

now let me play devil’s advocate and ask: why not look/observe?

well, uh, there are two reasons my teach told us:

to let your instinct and imagination go wild and free, trust your gut and have fun!!

and, tying back,

to let yourself be surprised by what you’ve done.

form synthesis (or just different types of approaches to draw form)

when drawing a model, there’s a few things that can be mentioned:

multiple types of lines exist with different purposes within the drawing: the action line(s), structural lines, and contour lines.

action lines define the overall movement of the pose. the principal one is the one you see when giving a better look at how dynamic the pose is. the secondary ones are the ones you can find in secondary rhythms when examining the pose a little longer.

(here's a better example, actually:)

structural lines are pretty much the “stickman skeleton” you sometimes see in certain how to draw books (specifically the more advanced manga themed ones).

contour lines surround the form in a way as to draw all of the outer body without using inside shapes or lines. (it is also the basis for the Bargue method which will be slightly discussed below. there unfortunately won’t be any talk about cross-contour lines, as it hasn’t been talked about in class (yet?))

generally, lines take either an I shape, a C shape or an S shape. (teach said it’s preferable to mostly use I and C type lines when drawing live models. probably due to the fact that S shapes are much trickier to use “effectively” within a piece (effectively not meaning much in this context, if nothing at all. again, have fun.)). using these lines tell a lot about the model and the pose, telling a sort of dynamic storytelling which varies depending on what type of line you choose to represent your model.

we can mostly talk about 2D shapes when three or more points have been linked by lines. sometimes, lines can skip articulations for the sake of dynamism. shapes should be thought about in their entirety, the difficulty that can be encountered usually being remaining vague but accurate with your form.

now, a quick word about:

the Bargue method (or, the fuck do you mean the Americans used it in art schools before us, Bargue was literally born in Paris, i fucking hate the Académie des Beaux-Arts)

the Bargue method is probably fairly well known among certain art schools or artistic communities. if i do recall correctly; it originated with Bargue noticing the low level of the students of the Académie des Beaux-Arts de Paris (or some other place basing itself solely on academic style art and paintings located in the city of Paris in the country of France on the continent of Europe) and devising a simple way to learn how to draw accurately from life (or plaster casts, depending on what you prefer). it solely based itself on straight, contour lines, forming a base around which to slowly add details to. apparently, a lot of art schools in america base their teaching of life drawing on this method, but given i do not feel like getting over $200k in debt without even mentioning living and travel costs, i cannot say if that is actually true.

here's an example of it:

it’s pretty much basing yourself on simplifications of the form to attain absolute accuracy. no curves here to distract you, only straights. somehow, when pulled off correctly, it gives a very neat impression of realism.

anyway, that’s all i wrote down. hope teach won’t see this anytime soon, and hope this kinda helped a little bit. next week’s notes should be about blocking in shapes, so we’re starting to be a little more concrete with the actual drawing process.

these classes were taught by Mr Francis Buchet at a class given at the Académie de la Grande Chaumière, so most of the things i’m saying here are taken from him and his class. if you live in/close to Paris and are interested in learning artistic anatomy, i suggest you look up where he is giving public classes, since they’re infinitely more engaging than these notes. his instagram is be linked below. (hoping he doesn’t get mad at me for sharing these notes… in any case i will use my own example sheets to avoid getting in any more trouble.)

and, may i remind you: these notes are only here to showcase one approach among many others, so they don’t mean much in the grand scheme of things. i myself am in absolutely no way a professional, so please, take all of this with a grain of salt (or a spoonful, even). draw how you enjoy drawing, and find happiness in the way you want to draw.

Francis Buchet's instagram: x

so, seeyou next weekend! (or earlier, if i draw something i want to show here.)

#artist tips #art tutorial #art tips #art help #drawing tips #literally no one asked but why not #that was something i've wanted to do for a while tbh #god i hope that doesn't sound pretentious #next time i'll try to show more examples since this one seems a little bit bare #first four classes will be about drawing theory so it might take a little while before we get to actual anatomy :(#so it's gonna be a little bit boring for the first while :((#really sorry about this #next ones should be a little more concrete so. yea #i apologize if this sounds abit confusing; it's the first time i try to make a “tutorial” or anything like that for art #will also try to find a spot to put my own drawings i did while attending the class to show the stuff we do there #in any case #hope this helps someone!

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ghosttotheparty · 1 year

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also on ao3

(cw: tics, bullying)

Eddie started shivering in seventh grade.

Even when it was hot, even when he was sweating and desperately wanted a non-rattly fan or a better air conditioner. They weren't normal shivers. He wasn't cold. But his shoulders would jerk or shake, or he would tremble for a second, and he didn't know what else it could have been. Others didn't question it for a while, because it started in October. Everyone was shivering. But by March, it hadn't stopped, and he had to explain himself when people gave him questioning looks or asked if he was okay. (Back when people cared.)

'S just a shiver, I'm fine.

He wasn't fine. It got worse over time. He got used to it, to the weird feeling that took over his body for a few seconds, got used to telling people he was cold, joking that he must be low on vitamins or iron, joking that in the future, someone is walking over his grave. But other people didn't get used to it. They thought he was weird. That was fine with him. Wayne realised something was wrong before Eddie started the tenth grade, because he wasn't just shivering anymore. His whole body was jerking sharply, suddenly, his shoulders drawing up, fists clenching. Eddie didn't question it. Wayne did.

It wasn't normal. But nothing about Eddie was normal. Wayne took him to see a doctor. The doctor make him do things, walk in a line, hold his arms out and push the doctor's hands away as hard as he could, follow a flashlight with his eyes without moving his head. It was all weird. It kind of scared Eddie. The doctor kept writing things in a notebook, and Eddie couldn't tell if he was doing well or not. But Wayne was there, watching and listening intently.

The doctor said he had tics. It sounded funny to Eddie, but then it wasn't funny, because the doctor didn't give him anything for it. He just said there wasn't anything really wrong with him. His brain just worked a little differently. (Which Eddie was already used to hearing.) That his tics could get better or go away as he got older, or they could get worse.

They got worse.

By the end of that summer, his arms were moving, flying over his head suddenly, randomly, and his head was jerking back so sharply it hurt. Wayne was worried about him getting whiplash. Eddie was worried about going to school.

That year, he became the freak.

At first, he tried to explain it to people. The movements were involuntary, he couldn't control them. Wayne contacted all his teachers, who mostly got it, but still preferred to make him sit in the hallway so he didn't distract the class. But the other students thought he was possessed, faking it for attention, and everything in between. They'd throw things at him, and complain to the teachers that he was distracting even when he wasn't moving, just to get him out of the room. They would mimic him, make fun of him, and by September, he learned that the tics get worse when he's upset. He could hear them all snickering and giggling as he shoved his hands under his legs and tucked his chin to his chest or held his shirt over his face, as he held his limbs tense so they wouldn't move, so tense he was exhausted and sore all the time, and then he'd go home and cry because he couldn't control his own body.

He'd have to sit on the sofa so when his head threw itself back, it would hit the back of the sofa instead of the wall, and Wayne would just wait, watching with that fucking sadness in his eyes that made Eddie ache even more. When it finally stopped, sometimes after a few minutes, sometimes after an hour or two, he was so exhausted he'd fall asleep right there on the sofa. He couldn't do his homework. His grades dropped even more, but he managed to keep himself afloat. He did the best he could, doing his homework early in the morning before school or in detention. (Some of his teachers thought he was faking. Mr Peterson was in charge of detention, and he was nice. Considerate. Eddie counted him as one of his few blessings.)

His tics got worse.

In December of his junior year, he started making noises. Short screams, grunts, quiet vocalizations. It scared him. He didn't want to go back to school, but he did. The laughter around him got louder, and he was sent out to the hallways more. He started skipping classes. He knew he'd be forced to leave anyway. So he'd sit in the boys' room, on top of a lidded toiler, his feet up on the stall door, and he'd leave cigarette burns on the walls.

Not everyone was awful. Some kids were just curious about him, asked why he acted the way he did, and he did his best to calmly explain it all. I can't help it, actually. It's just my brain works different. That turned into Eddie's brain's fucked. It's broken. He's a fucking--

So he used it. Eddie the Freak. Attention-seeking, desperate for people to notice him. So he started making devil horns, yelling from tabletops, making himself The Freak so no one could use it against him.

No one, not even Wayne, saw him cry at night, because the attention he got was never the attention he wanted. Because he was tired. So fucking tired. His limbs were sore and his voice was rough, and his neck hurt, and he was sick of being laughed at. But that was all he got.

He kept counting his blessings. Mr Peterson, who never minded Eddie's noises or the way his fists would bang against the table loudly in the silent room, who scolded the other detention-goers when they tried to tease. The Hellfire guys, who got used to his tics fairly quickly, and knew when to pause whatever they were doing if Eddie couldn't hear them over a scream or was distracted by his own body. That nice girl, Chrissy Cunningham, who would slip notes from the classes he missed or skipped into his locker or backpack with sweet smiles. (If Eddie wasn't gay, he would have fallen in love with her.) The other few students that ignored him when his tics acted up, just glancing and moving on. Wayne, bless his soul, who would come to the school to confront Eddie's teachers and complain to the principal about Eddie being mistreated by the staff.

And, oddly enough, Steve Harrington.

Eddie never saw it coming. It was a particularly bad day. He was at his locker, trying to line his books up, but a tic threw his hands up, and some books fell from his locker to the floor. He watched helplessly as papers scattered across the floor, as most students stepped around them, ignoring them, as some jocks trampled over them, over Chrissy's neat handwriting, his fists clenched at his sides. When they passed, he kneeled, picking up the books, and when he looked up, Steve Harrington was kneeling too, gathering the crumpled papers and carefully straightening them out.

He gave them to Eddie with a smile, and Eddie thought he might be dying, in some weird, upside-down dimension where Steve Harrington smiles at Eddie Munson. Eddie took them hesitantly, said thank you, and then he hit him.

He was mortified, almost dropping the papers again, jumping back as his whole body flushed with heat, staring at Steve's shoulder where his hand had just landed heavily, and he burst with a Fuck, I'm so sorry, oh my god--

But Steve had just laughed. Amazingly, it was a kind laugh, with sparkling eyes, and soft cheeks, and he said It's okay.

And then he was gone. Down the hall, after his friends, and Eddie realised his hands were trembling.

Steve kept smiling at him. Even when his friends were making fun of Eddie's Satanic cult, and of the way he couldn't keep still, and of his sad, broken brain. Even when Eddie's brain made him flip Steve off across the cafeteria, Steve saw how Eddie pulled his hand down sharply, and Steve just... laughed. Eddie fell in love with his laugh. It was kind, and it made Eddie feel better, even when he wanted to cry.

Steve graduated the next year. But he didn't leave Eddie alone. Eddie couldn't stop thinking about him, and his kind laugh, and his pretty eyes, and then the sheep Eddie adopted told him all about how cool and brave Steve was, and Eddie fell harder without even seeing him.

The world went to shit. But Eddie got to see Steve again.

Steve was still kind, even though the world was ending, and even during serious discussions, plan-making, how-to-save-the-world conversations, Eddie's tics kept going. His body jerked and shivered, and his head threw back, and his fists hit his own chest and shoulders, and he had to sit down. And Eddie found out that there are more kind people than he thought. When his tics slowed, Nancy wordlessly got him an ice pack to hold to his chest, and when he flung it across the room, Robin caught it with a casual oops, and brought it back to him. No one questioned him, or stared, or laughed, even though he knew how annoying he was.

When he woke up in the hospital, he hurt so badly he couldn't move. He just cried. Steve sat by his bed and held onto his hand. He was crying too. When Eddie stopped crying, Steve carefully slid his rings, clean of blood, onto his fingers.

This one goes here, right?

Yeah.

On the second day, his brain didn't care that he hurt. As Steve was telling him about what was going on with the others (Max was staying with the Sinclairs, Dustin's leg was almost healed), Eddie's hand smacked him across the face sharply, the sting of his rings bringing tears to his eyes before he even processed what happened. Steve wordlessly crawled onto the bed, carefully pulled Eddie against himself, and set a pillow over Eddie's lap for when his fists started hitting his legs. He'd just murmured those words, the first words he'd said to Eddie years ago.

It's okay. It's okay.

And he waited until Eddie's body fell lax against him before he carefully found Eddie's hand, laced their fingers, and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

Eddie was released from the hospital a few weeks later. He stayed in the Wheelers' basement for a few days until Steve's parents left town, for good this time, and then he moved into the Harrington house.

He likes it there. Steve is still kind. Always. He lets Eddie lay his head in his lap when his body hurts or won't stop moving, and he drags his fingers through his hair or holds a joint to his lips for him, and he smiles. (Eddie would go through the end of the world all over again for that smile.) When Eddie's head hits the wall while they're in the waiting room of the hospital for a checkup, Steve just shifts to face him and holds a hand up to the back of his head so his hand hits the wall instead, saying quietly that Eddie isn't allowed to beat his record number of concussions. He drives Eddie to Wayne's even though Eddie doesn't tic when he drives except for a few facial or vocal ones.

When Eddie whistles one night, Steve just smiles at him and says Was that a tic or are you hitting on me? and Eddie freezes, his face burning. Which would you prefer, pretty boy?

Steve kisses him.

And then Steve starts holding his hand even when he isn't having tics, even when they're with the Party. Eddie moves into Steve's room. (They always slept better when they accidentally fell asleep on the sofa together anyway.) Steve holds him when his tics are bad, and Eddie holds him during his migraines, pressing kisses as softly as he can to his forehead and his temples. Steve takes his hand when it moves to hit Eddie's face or chest. Eddie stands steady and holds Steve's hand to himself when he gets dizzy. Steve keeps ready-made ice packs in the freezer to hold to Eddie's chest and legs when they bruise from his fists. Eddie keeps his handwriting as neat as possible when he writes notes in case Steve forgets anything. When they wake up at night, breathless and sweaty and crying, the other is there, arms open, lips waiting.

One night Eddie says very softly, You know, they used to say my brain was broken.

Steve just says, Mine too.

#welcome to projection central #hand wrote this during a lecture today bc i was bored and realised a lot of ppl write/hc eddie as autistic and w adhd #but usually those are the only kinda neurodivergencies i see in fan content #(pretend thats a word)#but then i thought eddie having tics would make sense for his character and i have Experience to write from so #(disclaimer i was not bullied in school nor was i removed from classes (unless i left on my accord bc i wanted to hide in the bathroom))#(some kids teased me or mimicked me or told me to 'do it again' but i dealt w them)#(and the one kid that was really a dick ended up being rly nice by the time we graduated he's cool)#(and i got lucky w my teachers i think they were all very sweet and considerate)#(but i thought this story would make sense and go along with eddies story in the canon)#anyway give eddie tics #anotther hc that his tics calm down/stop when he's playing guitar and playing d&d #mine arent as bad as they were in high school but back then (and on bad days now) they usually calm down #when im focused on something or doing something i enjoy (ie drawing or painting or st)#steddie #steddie oneshot #eddie munson #eddie munson oneshot #steve harrington #steve harrington one shot #stranger things #stranger things one shot

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