On being an artist...
I remembered how to draw today. I did it of my own accord! It's been so long since I have voluntarily drawn - or drawn for the fun of it (prints don't count right now, since it takes a different kind of thinking and a different eye), and I've been berating myself every day for ages, asking "How can I be an artist if I don't PRACTICE??" I think the last thing I drew was a dragon from Magic the Gathering. Seriously! I know that I need to practice, make it routine, but I spend so much time waiting for inspiration to strike, because if I try to draw in the wrong frame of mind I'll end up in tears -- and then won't want to draw again for months. Should it be this difficult? Is this the curse of the artist, or am I simply weak-willed? Others are so prolific, and I used to think of myself that way because once I begin a task I attack it single-mindedly until it is complete. But in recent years making art into something I "had" to do, and comparing myself to others, made the whole process quite disheartening.
I remembered how to draw today. I did it of my own accord! It's been so long since I have voluntarily drawn - or drawn for the fun of it (prints don't count right now, since it takes a different kind of thinking and a different eye), and I've been berating myself every day for ages, asking "How can I be an artist if I don't PRACTICE??" I think the last thing I drew was a dragon from Magic the Gathering. Seriously! I know that I need to practice, make it routine, but I spend so much time waiting for inspiration to strike, because if I try to draw in the wrong frame of mind I'll end up in tears -- and then won't want to draw again for months. Should it be this difficult? Is this the curse of the artist, or am I simply weak-willed? Others are so prolific, and I used to think of myself that way because once I begin a task I attack it single-mindedly until it is complete. But in recent years making art into something I "had" to do, and comparing myself to others, made the whole process quite disheartening.
This morning I went through and sorted all of the photos on my computer, nesting dolls of folders inside folders. That way I could really see and catalog what I've done in the past couple of years -- some were dated earlier than 2007. Then I watched some TV like I've been doing non-stop for the past year. But when the thunderstorm came, I was ready. I finally practiced. Took out my book of John Singer Sargent portraits and picked one to copy. He felt like just my style at the moment, since I haven't drawn anything in pencil in years, and I wasn't feeling the whole charcoal dust lung thing (also I didn't want to sleep in a bed covered with charcoal, since that was where I chose to draw). Here, my dear blogosphere, is the result:
Not half bad! His style is very flowy and I like the sketchy shading. With an all-graphite 8B pencil, the lines come out as smooth as silk. I don't know how long it took me to complete, probably two hours maximum. Now, if I can keep this up every day, and then switch back to drawing from photographs and life, I'll be prepared -- and have something to show for it. This would easily translate into an etching, or perhaps, as I will find out this semester, a lithograph.Here's the real drawing by Sargent, so you can see the differences. I think the head is tilted forward more, and the chin, eyes, ear, and nose are off. My strokes are darker as well. I'm not sure why there's a checkerboard pattern in the image, my scanner is doing something funny Already?!! It's brand new :(
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