100 Geese
Get Goosey, Not Necessarily Loosey
Monday, June 8, 2025
Seattle, WA, USA
Dear Art Audience,
Yesterday saw the beginning and completion of a project I’d dreamed up mostly as an excuse to spend an extended amount of art time with some of my favorite subjects: The Canada Geese. With Gasworks Park as the obvious venue, given the abundance and likelihood of geese there, and a sunny-ish Sunday with nothing scheduled, I biked to Gasworks with many small 6 x 8” sketchbooks to draw 100 geese.
This was not my first time drawing or painting the Canada goose from life, but it was the first time I’d given the practice a structure in the form of a numbers-based goal. I would work at Gasworks, drawing geese with ink brush pen (and some graphite / pencil) until I’d rendered 100 individual geese. There were a few moments when the geese retreated out of sight or proximity to the surrounding water, when I considered stopping / abandoning the project, yet given a bit of patience, and the dog that had scared them having moved on, they always returned to the green grassy land. I had, if you can tell from the work, an immensely good time. Thanks especially to my dad for joining me outside at Gasworks for the first hour or so. I’ll take you through each drawing, sharing a bit about each piece. There are 28 drawings featuring 100 geese. All were made en plein air, outside from life, yesterday afternoon from about 1pm to 6:30pm, using a pentel ink brush pen, sometimes using a graphite pencil as well.
Enjoy.
Goose 1. Goose 1 is not actually from Gasworks. I had my bike outside, ready to ride, when several geese presented themselves, nibbling on algae on a neighbor’s houseboat. The paper here is smaller, too, only 4 x 6”, not 6 x 8” (as are all the other 27 works). I thought, sure, let’s kick off this project with a local goose neighbor.
2+ 3. The first geese at Gasworks! As I’d just arrived, the geese were feeding on grass and checking me out. If you bring a calm energy to their space, they’ll ignore you and feed right at your feet, within arm’s length.
4.5.6.7. Each page of paper is a new and thrilling chance to populate the space with goose friends. I’m looking at the light, their shapes, their attitudes. They are in constant motion. Working in black ink brush pen allows for more subtlety than you might think - depending on how soft or strong you touch the paper - a full-bodied brush submersion of black, or a fingertip caress across nearly dry pigment, smeared directionally. In all of these geese drawings I am really looking hard and paying all my attention to the light on the animals - also experimenting, playing around with ways of sharing a full-color brilliant spectrum of light, green, black, white, and the steady “clip, clip, tear, crunch” of their grass-pulling beaks. The best part of being this close to geese is the sound of them biting grass.
8. To draw 100 geese - the point for me was not to go as quickly as possible, rushing to render the 100th goose and be onto the next thing. Nor was the point to go as slowly as possible and savor each subject. The point was to run the experiment - to see for myself what I would learn and what might come out of a more profound immersion in goose world. The 8th goose drawing investigates I glamorous close-up the structure of the beak, head, and neck. The geese at this point, maybe an hour into the project, were coming much closer to me and lingering with some curiosity without alarm, giving me a closer look at them, even when I approached for portraits like this one. I added pencil (graphite) to render some of the subtlety in the gradation of light on the nostrils, the face, the neck. I loved the reflection in their eyes, the shine in their glossy black neck feathers showing their long neck muscles, and for the first time seeing in-depth the interwoven forms of their beaks. Also very obvious to me after and during this drawing - each goose looks unique.
9, 10, 11. When the geese stand still, not feeding, or rest on the ground, their feathers relax and splay out a bit from their form, including their necks getting a bit bushier. These three were in front of the low retaining wall, just beyond is the water. The midday sun was warm and bright.
12-17. These geese are walking up the main hill at Gasworks, seen from below.
18. Goose 18 began with a portrait of the girl drawing in her sketchbook on the hill. I love seeing artists in the wild even more than I love seeing geese! The goose below here came second. I paused my work to cut this drawing out of the coil binding and give it to her. She said thank you. I love giving away art - especially informal, unposed portraiture.
19, 20, 21. While the geese are wary of being chased by children, the only time I observed them alert and retreating in total soundless (then calamitous!) coordination was on the approach of dogs. A small dog alerts and alarms them, a bigger one, no matter how dopey and harmless (think overweight 10-year-old golden retriever) sends them all racing to the water. These three were bobbing in the Lake Union waves just offshore after such a retreat.
22-45. Although they are easier to observe up close, on land, it was singularly wonderful to see the whole plump (group of geese on water) spread out in a line around the bend in the lapping waves, gently returning to the shore. I tried to render each individual with observant care. These drawings aren’t made generically. I’m not just flinging geese in there haphazardly. Each goose is observed, either as an individual or a conglomeration of several in similar poses. After making these 20+ geese all on one page, I wanted to make sure I didn’t get to all 100 too quickly!
46-50. The geese were slow to return to land, and I was worried I’d lost them for the day. These five show a moment I’d never drawn before - the geese upending themselves to nibble off the submerged rocks. They’d take turns flipping over - you wouldn’t actually see them all doing this simultaneously. I almost left Gasworks after this, as the geese had vanished for 15 or 20 minutes.
51-52. My patience was validated! I felt such joy to have more time with the geese, seeing these two before the rest returned. I paid attention to the shadows on their rounded forms, and the optics of the sunlit and shadowed grass at their feet. I’m sitting on the goose-poo-covered ground for this, at their level.
53, 54. In the interest of taking my time, I decided to focus on just a few geese per page. I enjoy just the hint of beak you can see from behind, under their white bellies reflecting the green grass.
55, 56. These two clicked well as drawings. At this point in the experiment my marks with the ink brush pen felt more accurate, more goosey, if not more loosey. The shapes of their shadows on the uneven ground were as interesting as their forms. This might even be the same goose, drawn twice. I left the bottom of the page blank because the work felt complete without more guests. The grass bounty below is implied: all theirs.
57-65. This drawing is one of my favorites from the day. In my mind when beholding these animals in their field of green, deciding / feeling out where to populate them on the page, I think of Edgar Degas’s paintings of clustered horses in their green fields. It’s so fun to draw or paint animals or figures in a field - and these geese looking down this hillside were a means to explore such arrangements. The path at the base of the Gasworks hill is running diagonally mid left to upper right corner.
66. Even while drawing it, which did turn out to be one of the stronger standalone goose drawings of the day, especially the mid-step foot, all I could think of was “get your kicks, on goose, sixty-six”.
67, 68, 69. “Ooooo! I just wanna… their shapes! I just wanna squeeeeeze ‘em!” So exclaimed my girlfriend, seeing these sleepy geese. When their eyes are closed, their eyelids are white. This drawing has no graphite, just ink and smeared ink.
70, 71. These geese were trying to walk along the hillside past me. I intentionally got in their way to get this view. They’d stop, try to go around me, stare me down, I’d move in that direction, stop, hesitate, repeat. You can see the annoyance in their posture.
72-79. Another dog must have caused the geese to retreat once more into the water. This water-level seawall is a popular place for them to stand. Their reflections interested me - I drew them first. The geese themselves then had to be matched approximately to reflections.
80-84 (+). As the afternoon stretched into late afternoon the geese appeared on the water almost as silhouettes in the glare. I included the far shoreline of Westlake, looking into the sun. Yes, there are more than five geese here but I didn’t want to count them all towards the 100. I was savoring the experiment.
85, 86. Like goose 8, these two are a detailed look at goose beak and head structure. I made the top goose first, the lower one second. In their facial forms, like a good friend’s portrait, is an infinite world of subtlety and idiosyncrasy. These drawings show only the tiniest fraction of what I was seeing and experiencing.
87. Of the 100 geese, it’s hard to pick a favorite, but this might be mine. This goose was eating the grass from under my feet, such was its comfort level with me. The drawing came together in seconds; the goose moved on.
88, 89, 90. From the upper 80s into the 90s - 100 geese felt close! These three were only a few of many marching towards and through my position seated on the grass, mowing as they went. I was feeling more facile with their shadows and forms than at the outset of the day. Especially interesting to me were the shadows around their feet.
91. Goose 91 was made quickly, a goose splayed, resting in the grass.
92. I’ve never really focused on goose feet before - usually they aren’t close enough! This goose stood less than a foot from me. On the ground between us, a goose feather.
93. I tried for another goose foot portrait - but this goose moved away almost immediately. At this time my girlfriend Tessa called - I made all the rest of the goose drawings while on the phone with her.
94. Goose 94 moved almost as soon as I’d started, with no equivalent poses about. I did what I could from the fresh memory.
95. Goose 95 came together quickly and accurately, another goose striding deliberately uphill, viewed from below. “I love his stride!” Tessa said. “I feel, looking at these, like these geese are my friends. And that’s what you’re always saying - ‘my goose friends’”. I said thank you - that’s the highest compliment. I told her I love looking at original handcrafted art, especially made by my friends, because I can see how they see the world. I understand them through their subjective art!
96. This goose, alas, remains partially undrawn - its breast so bright as to merge with the bright ground around it - the geese took to the water again.
97, 98, 99, 100! For the last four geese, I knew I wanted them to feel a little special. I mapped them out in one go in ink, using graphite second. I thought of the four geese I’d drawn in a park in Arizona, the morning after my car crash, to establish that I was, in fact, mentally intact. Then, as now, four geese stood bravely at water’s edge. On all 100 geese in this project, the graphite is the secondary step, shading after the decisive ink use. I was on the phone with Tessa, looking south at these geese on their semi-submerged concrete platform, enjoying watching them preen themselves, enjoying the challenge of drawing both them and their reflections. A graphite wash for the waves and water lets their sunlit feathers shine bright, the white of the paper.
A thank you to my dad for joining me and taking photos, to Tessa for talking with me while working towards the end, and to the geese for their modeling.
Thank you for taking the time with this art - may it spark a curiosity for your own experience.
-David
Heck yeah!! 🪿