“Coffee House” 16 × 22 inches, Crayon on brown Rives BFK paper
This is a handmade, original work of art NOT A PRINT and NOT AI GENERATED
FREE SHIPPING Shipping takes 3–4 Weeks This ships from San Carlos, California (The San Francisco Bay Area). I use UPS and sometimes US Post.
This drawing describes a familiar experience I’ve had throughout my life, and I suspect plenty of other people will recognize it too. A cup of coffee, a book, a place by the window and some time to look around.
The other day, I realized how closely it captured something that happened after I made it. I rode my bike downtown near where I live to meet an old friend for coffee and breakfast. We’re both old, and we’re old friends, which is important to the story. He forgot.
I had arrived and ordered my mocha and breakfast twenty minutes before we were supposed to meet. Believe me, the barista and cook weren’t in a hurry. It took almost half an hour to get everything, but that didn’t bother me. Neither did my friend spacing out on our date. I texted him, we rescheduled for later, and I enjoyed people watching, reading the book I’d brought, my strong coffee and a yummy breakfast.
I had already drawn this scene, but there I was living a version of it again. The morning had changed a little, and there was still plenty to enjoy.
Coffee is so much a part of my life, and the lives of many other people, that there are songs and even conspiracy theories about it. Bach wrote the “Coffee Cantata,” in which a young woman sings about her love of the drink. A cup of coffee can be an ordinary daily pleasure and also something that sends my thoughts in all sorts of directions.
Recently, I came across a social-media video proposing that coffee and sugar were part of a kind of capitalist conspiracy. The idea was that global trade supplied the stimulants and energy that allowed workers to keep doing the bidding of their capitalist masters. Well, I don’t know how much of that theory holds up. But it’s an interesting thing to have rattling around in your head while you’re enjoying your coffee.
The different perspectives in this drawing have something to do with that. There’s the world inside the coffee house, the street outside, and whatever is going on inside my mind. Even the linear perspective becomes part of that idea. The window frames, sill and tabletop organize the space, but my attention can move between the book, the cup, the room and the view outside. These are different worlds that my mind, my coffee and I inhabit at the same time.
The drawing also captured a small experience before it happened again. The other day, I rode my bike downtown to meet an old friend for coffee and breakfast. We’re both old, and we’re old friends. He forgot. I had ordered early, and the barista and cook took their time, but neither the wait nor my friend spacing out bothered me. I texted him, we rescheduled for later, and I enjoyed people watching, my book, strong coffee and a yummy breakfast. I’ve had versions of this experience throughout my life.
Formally, I like the contrast between the firm structure of the window and the quick marks describing the figure, cars and buildings. The crayon’s grainy shading leaves the warm paper showing through. I also like to pretend that my sketches share something with Rembrandt’s: quick calligraphic lines and gestural blocks of shading that suggest a great deal without spelling everything out. A few marks can give a body weight, establish a room or open a view onto the street. That economy and liveliness are things I admire and keep trying to bring into my own drawings.
“Coffee House” 16 × 22 inches, Crayon on brown Rives BFK paper
This is a handmade, original work of art NOT A PRINT and NOT AI GENERATED
FREE SHIPPING Shipping takes 3–4 Weeks This ships from San Carlos, California (The San Francisco Bay Area). I use UPS and sometimes US Post.
This drawing describes a familiar experience I’ve had throughout my life, and I suspect plenty of other people will recognize it too. A cup of coffee, a book, a place by the window and some time to look around.
The other day, I realized how closely it captured something that happened after I made it. I rode my bike downtown near where I live to meet an old friend for coffee and breakfast. We’re both old, and we’re old friends, which is important to the story. He forgot.
I had arrived and ordered my mocha and breakfast twenty minutes before we were supposed to meet. Believe me, the barista and cook weren’t in a hurry. It took almost half an hour to get everything, but that didn’t bother me. Neither did my friend spacing out on our date. I texted him, we rescheduled for later, and I enjoyed people watching, reading the book I’d brought, my strong coffee and a yummy breakfast.
I had already drawn this scene, but there I was living a version of it again. The morning had changed a little, and there was still plenty to enjoy.
Coffee is so much a part of my life, and the lives of many other people, that there are songs and even conspiracy theories about it. Bach wrote the “Coffee Cantata,” in which a young woman sings about her love of the drink. A cup of coffee can be an ordinary daily pleasure and also something that sends my thoughts in all sorts of directions.
Recently, I came across a social-media video proposing that coffee and sugar were part of a kind of capitalist conspiracy. The idea was that global trade supplied the stimulants and energy that allowed workers to keep doing the bidding of their capitalist masters. Well, I don’t know how much of that theory holds up. But it’s an interesting thing to have rattling around in your head while you’re enjoying your coffee.
The different perspectives in this drawing have something to do with that. There’s the world inside the coffee house, the street outside, and whatever is going on inside my mind. Even the linear perspective becomes part of that idea. The window frames, sill and tabletop organize the space, but my attention can move between the book, the cup, the room and the view outside. These are different worlds that my mind, my coffee and I inhabit at the same time.
The drawing also captured a small experience before it happened again. The other day, I rode my bike downtown to meet an old friend for coffee and breakfast. We’re both old, and we’re old friends. He forgot. I had ordered early, and the barista and cook took their time, but neither the wait nor my friend spacing out bothered me. I texted him, we rescheduled for later, and I enjoyed people watching, my book, strong coffee and a yummy breakfast. I’ve had versions of this experience throughout my life.
Formally, I like the contrast between the firm structure of the window and the quick marks describing the figure, cars and buildings. The crayon’s grainy shading leaves the warm paper showing through. I also like to pretend that my sketches share something with Rembrandt’s: quick calligraphic lines and gestural blocks of shading that suggest a great deal without spelling everything out. A few marks can give a body weight, establish a room or open a view onto the street. That economy and liveliness are things I admire and keep trying to bring into my own drawings.
