From the corner of my eye, I glance over at Jake. He’s been still for a couple minutes now, just staring at the cove to our right. The bright sun sparkles along the blue water lapping against the cliffs. It’s currently the subject of our individual art.
In the last year or so, he’s taken an interest in drawing. He’s got a natural talent for sure.
According to Lucas, he’s great at any medium he tries, but Jake swears that ink pens are his favorite, too. I’ve seen his work with alcohol-based markers, and I think that could be his niche.
Jake is excited to learn, but I don’t try to overstep. There’s a lot of technical stuff to learn, like the correct way to use hatching to add shading, but all of that can come later. Jake’s learning his own style for now. He’s already pretty comfortable with that. I know he wants to learn more realism, similar to my drawings, but I’ve never had a voice that comes through my art like he does. I’ve always drawn what I see as a way to escape or cope. Jake draws things the way he interprets them.
Lucas also mentioned that he’s getting bored on his summer break. His brother and one of their friends, Daisy, aretaking surfing lessons, and they go kayaking with her stepmom often. He has some friends from school, according to my cousin, but he’s kind of a lone wolf and prefers small groups. I thought an afternoon at the beach before their trip to Disneyland would be nice. For both of us.
It’s rare that I draw for pleasure anymore. And I’m hoping now that I’ll be utilizing my construction management degree more than the architecture one, I might find myself more motivated to do so.
Over the last few weeks, Jake and I have spent a lot of time together, getting to know each other better. To be honest, I never put much thought into how complex a nine-year-old kid could be, but I’ve been proven wrong.
He’s kind of a little shit. Both of his dads would be the first to agree with that statement, and his younger brother Matty would follow up with a hundred examples of how he is. Yet, there’s something about the kid that I feel connected to—a kindred spirit, maybe.
I don’t mind having a new sidekick.
“Hmpf,” Jake quietly contemplates next to me.
Biting back my smirk, I bump his knee with mine. “What’s up, dude?”
“That moss is hard,” he reluctantly admits.
With a quick glance, I notice the eraser marks on his page. They’re only noticeable because we recently started and haven’t gotten even a quarter of the scene done yet. He’ll get it covered up once we figure out the mossy texture.
I’m not sure if my style of layering and shading will translate well to his style, so I don’t offer it right away. Instead, I say, “Textures are a learning curve, especially when there are so many different places that the light is hitting.”
He looks over at me and shakes his head. “It’s not the light. It’s keeping the textureandadding shading.”
Quickly, he shows me how he’s been trying to do it, and I realize he’s mimicking me anyway. Shaking my head, I pushmy sketchpad toward him and tell him, “My style isn’t going to work for you. And that’s okay.”
”But I likeyourstyle,” he pouts.
“You’ve already got the natural talent; realism can be taught later. Right now, I want you to focus on your own style. It’s more…” I trail off, thinking of the right word. “…graphic than what I do, partly because of my job and education. I really want you to focus on fostering this—” I tap his page with the flat side of my pencil “—before we get too worried about the technical stuff. Don’t lose this spark.”
There’s newfound determination set in his eyebrows and he nods.
Looking back down at his page, he thinks for a long moment then asks, “You said ‘more graphic’… like a comic book or manga?”
Smiling, I tilt my head from side to side then nod. “Yeah, that might be a good place to get some inspiration from. It matches what you’re already doing—the thicker lines and stronger contrasts when you shade.”
“Maybe I can ask Lexi to stock more at Brighter Daze.” His voice is quiet, like he’s thinking more to himself than talking to me. The store’s name sparks familiarity in the back of my mind, but I can’t place it. “Can we stop there on our way home?”
“Sounds like a plan. And if not, we can go into the city and find some references for you.”
With a shy smile, he pushes a lock of blonde hair off his forehead. “Thanks, Uncle Liam.”
We spend a few more minutes talking about the moss on the cliffs and the possible ways to show it. Ultimately, we land on trying to create the shading first and slowly adding texture over it. It’s a longer process than what I would do but it ends up coming together.
When we’re getting near the end of our pieces, Jake glances up at me more and more.
Once I’m done, I set down my sketchbook and turn toward him. “What’s going on? Why are you looking at me like you have a secret?”
He starts to blush and looks up at me with guilty eyes. “I do have a secret…” My brows flick up, but he doesn’t leave me waiting in anticipation. “I know who your date is.”
That gets my attention and is one of the last things I expected to hear. “Oh yeah? Care to tell me who it is?”
He shakes his head. “Dad made me promise.” I squint down at him but there’s amusement clearly written across my features. His blush grows brighter. “She’sreallypretty.”
