In New York for the memorial of Julia’s grandfather, Meg. I find if you’ve been thinking a lot about someone, it’s easier to draw them well. Portraiture is about saturation, I guess, the more you soak up the more there is to wring back out. And I’ve been hearing a million stories from his long and rich life.
Somebody (John Singer Sargent?) said something like “a portrait is a picture in which there is something wrong with the mouth.” I remembered that half way through drawing this, so decided to put more effort into his mouth, which was to me the most expressive part of his face. But now I’m just talking shop. Rest in peace, Poppy.