I successfully filled up another sketchbook. Which is a good sign of bad-habit-breaking for me. Back in the day, I used to always partially fill my sketchbooks, then I'd get a new one and just switch over. So I always had bunches of half-full sketchbooks lying around. But I've been doing pretty well with actually finishing them lately, and finishing them more quickly, drawing more often. So yeah. Better.
And I've started drawing my dogs a lot.
Here's the bishopric of my home ward here. Yeah, that's my dad in the middle.
McKinley sleeps funny, with his face all squished and his ears flopped up and his paws curled under. He's just a weird dog. And I love him. But as far as drawing goes, I like the top-right one of Hunter best. He's usually easier to draw, since he spends so much time lying around the house doing nothing.
I always feel obligated to draw something impressive and climactic on the last page of a sketchbook. But of course, as I sat on my bed musing about what sort of awesome drawing I could put on that fateful page, I started doodling my stuffed animals without really meaning to.