Booze is a creative lubricant for some folks. For others it's just a depressive, an obstacle to overcome. And for many people in between, it's little bit of both.
I'm forever trying to quantify the pros and cons of this subject, parsing out the increments and comparing the results like a bartender mixing an artisanal cocktail.
The late Christopher Hitchens wrote that "Alchohol...can help provide what the Greeks called entheos, or the slight buzz of inspiration when reading or writing." - and that's a
guy who, for better or worse, really walked the walk .
A good deal of drawing gets done at local bars. It's helpful for social anxiety, provides a small bubble of protective isolation, and in Woodstock, where much of the bar and waitstaff are already self-identified artists, it's not considered particularly anomalous behavior.
If I can snag a corner stool, the floor manager will kindly provide a placemat or unprinted menu, the bartenders will indulge me with a basket of bread, wine will be poured and a modicum of professional discretion is observed.
These evenings are essentially busman's holidays and the "quality" of the sketches, if there is any at all, peaks modestly at an early level of imbibement, and suffers then on from the steady, though not always perceived, inevitability of diminishing returns.
Usually these drawings wind up left for the bartenders or the regular in the next seat . Here's a couple
that made their way home, both of them done at the Red Onion. The dabs of color on the one above come from a few drops of Aperol, a sweetly bitter Italian aperitif that's nice for the digestion.
A sketchbook drawing. Reference for the fish came from an ad in Field & Stream. Started with that and worked backwards to the martini drinker.