To sketch or not to sketch

Convinced that sketching was what made Xu Beihong's horses look so distinctive and exact,  muscles bulging and tendons tensing I decided to follow suite.

How crass!

I picked out a photo of a horse and I sketched it out in charcoal.  Paying attention to the nostrils, mouth, chest muscles and  joints and tendons.  Cute!

The rest was easy.  Using my brush and ink I finished my horse in no time.

It was only the following day that I observed the pin-up on the wall and was overcome by a profound sense of disgust.

The painting I had completed the night before was excessively precise, resulting in an appearance that closely resembled a drawing, almost as if it were a graphic illustration for a book. The brushstrokes were absent and the entire painting lacked any semblance of soul..

I mean when someone shows up with a perfect body, perfect lips and nose etc. we suspect cosmetic surgery........  We all know that god is not perfect!

So I tried again.  Without first sketching it out this time around.

Right away I could see the expressive brushstrokes.  I was no longer bound by the charcoal sketch.

A few days later I gave it a third try.

Upon analyzing the latest iteration of my painting, I must acknowledge that none of the individual components achieved the same level of visual appeal as the initial attempt. However, the brush now is narrating a story, and the brushstrokes have become spontaneous. The horse’s galloping motion is now palpable, whereas the sketched version appeared static.

It is evident that with each subsequent attempt at painting the same horse, my familiarity with the subject matter increased. Despite the three attempts spanning several days, there was sufficient muscle memory to enhance each execution, rendering the “sketching” process on paper obsolete, as the image was now firmly etched in my mind.