Pride

I made a decision one day; the first and biggest I had in several years.

I decided to be more like my drawings.

Confidence.

Zero hesitation.

No regrets.

To bring depth to the simplest materials was my goal. A dirty bit of charcoal and crumpled paper could bring the coldest critic to his knees when handled at its best.

Motivation is absolutely key. As artists, we have already chosen the hard road of supposed elitists. But it's not about being the best. It's about being your best. Damn anyone who tells you otherwise. If it's important to you than that's all you need to set you on your way. But don't let it stagnate. Use it to improve, to learn, to love, to live. Fight for it tooth and nail.

Chin up.

Chest out.

It's not enough to reach for the stars. Grab the sun, and if it burns, endure it.

Exhaustion

A little nonsense now and then

is relished by the wisest men

Copying Machine

During my senior year of college, I spent most of my free time between classes in the library copying illustrations out of books. I'd jot down the book and page number, then take a sampling of things that interested me: poses, anatomy, costumes, etc. Sometimes there would be a theme, a day concentrating on eastern textiles, then the next on art nouveau.

I had misgivings about copying at first. I was afraid of becoming too reliant on it and losing the ability to create on my own. It's hard to find joy in having a camera and scanner as rivals.

But I found that in following someone else's lines, the motion and modeling became more instinctual. It wasn't so much training precision as it was natural flow. I learned the lines of Mucha and could combine them with Munch's tone. Or give an asian monster a touch of grecian style.

Studying as much art as I have, it'd be impossible for me to make anything sincerely "unique." But now I use that experience as a throwback in my art. My drawings are me because they contain all the things I've loved and learned before.

Spotlight - Magnetic Movie

Magnetic Movie from Semiconductor on Vimeo.

"In Magnetic Movie, Semiconductor have taken the magnificent scientific visualisations of the sun and solar winds conducted at the Space Sciences Laboratory and Semiconducted them. Ruth Jarman and Joe Gerhardt of Semiconductor were artists-in-residence at SSL. Combining their in-house lab culture experience with formidable artistic instincts in sound, animation and programming, they have created a magnetic magnum opus in nuce, a tour de force of a massive invisible force brought down to human scale, and a "very most beautiful thing.""

Beautiful, indeed.

More info on the creators here.

To Craft a Line

I've recently taken up quilling after a chance encounter with an instructional book. The thought had never really occurred to me to use paper strips as 3D lines. Wire had been considered, but I felt like the kinky bends in wire didn't have the same feel as a flowing line. Embroidery (another craft I'm fond of) was also a candidate, but was too rooted in having a 2D surface. So quilling was an exciting new technique to pick up.


The above is the beginning of a super secret project I hope to make into a series. For scale, the largest coil in the back is the size of a dime. I'm sure there's some sort of irony in the fact that my favorite work threatens to blind me.

But during research, I noticed that quilling had the same pitfalls as other crafts. It was... well, crafty. Most of its uses were in scrapbooking and card-making. It had a place in history among leisure crafts, but nothing on the level of museum quality appreciation. There's not a problem with that really, but I wanted to take it to another level. To make it "art."

The area between art and craft is funny, defined by scholars using big words to make big points. So for contrast, here are some small, pointless words on the same subject, (or any subject, really):

Start at the edge and work towards the middle to bridge.

Start in the middle and work out towards the edges to build.

Right now I have art and craft, and gradually I will bridge the two. And when I do that, maybe I'll have the skills necessary to build it further and see where it goes.

Nautilus

On Wednesday, someone asked me what my "drawing animal" was, and I automatically replied, the nautilus. It's a funny animal that I think I resemble the most: elusive, awkwardly cute, and runs into things because it can't see where it's going.

It is in my nature to look behind me as a nautilus does. As both an artist and art historian, I look behind me at what others have done. Even if they lived a thousand years before me, doesn't that mean that I should have the same (if not better) tools and materials as they did? What's stopping me from painting like Rembrandt or carving a piece on the same level as Angkor Wat?

...a lot of things, really, but lack of effort and inspiration won't be among them.

The "drawing animal" question was asked on the day I attended a drawing event at school, despite no longer being a student. Wholeheartedly, I enjoyed it. Bouncing off the energy that everyone was putting in. Action and reaction. Punchlines and laughter. Dancing and embarrassment. No one "owned" that drawing, just as no one "owned" that moment. It was ours. And it was shared.

But when the time came to leave, I hesitated and pressed the elevator button with my back turned to it; facing the work and people I wasn't sure if I would see again. The walk to the station felt particularly quiet and lonely that night.

Always the nautilus, I look back and watch it all. Learning. Changing. But could I, should I turn my eyes forward and look ahead for what may be? Certainly I would go faster and spare myself some pain, yet the cost may be forgetting not only those who pass out of sight, but myself as well.

I don't know the answer. I hope I find it one day.

Yin and Yang, Pen and Paper

Contrasts are some of my favorite things. Gears within a clock. Songs without lyrics. Milk in coffee.

That was one of the reasons I started to use ink.

It was only recently that I would even think to pick up a pen instead of pencil. Pencil was safe. Not only did it have an eraser, but could also be used lightly if you were scared. But then I noticed that a lot of my work looked quite the same. Very soft, very unsure. I wanted to make a decision. To be bolder, more confident. I needed to go black and white.

So from then on, the pen slowly crept into my toolbox. My first love was the gummy, but stable ink of an old ball point. Then, I later became acquainted with a very fine, quick-to-the-point detail pen. And I eventually came to know the free flow stylings of an unpredictable nib pen.

With ink, I only have two choices: Is it there, or is it not? The illusion of depth can come later, depending on how close you want to force "there" and "not there" together.

But the balance of contrasts has leaked into my entire work ethic. When I work on something that needs intense concentration, I prefer the work area to be a war zone. It is in the mess that I feel the need to make sense of things. But if I am working on something that needs free movement and spontaneity, everything needs to be pristine and out of my way. Like leaping into fresh fallen snow.

So at the moment, this is how I live my life. Balancing what I should and should not. Can and cannot. And just for fun, maybe, I'll run in the opposite direction to see what happens.

Margin Stories - Ethan

I mentioned before that I had a habit of doodling scenes of stories I've made up on the sides of my homework, so I thought it would be funny to share them here once in awhile. I've already shown off Tree Lady's evolution, so here I present Ethan, the formerly unnamed hero of the Nyx saga.


Ethan, a shy quiet boy, is on a journey to rescue his older sister's soul by slipping into the dreamscape of Nyx, the land between life and death. In the background are the antagonist and Ethan's guide, both equally insane. Most of the time I just like to draw Ethan meeting a few residents of Nyx: scary monsters, surreal animals, pirate teddy bears, and whatnot. He's a fun way to bounce off expressions, even if it's usually fear or confusion.

This particular drawing I was trying out an actual illustration sort of look, like what I might put on the cover of a comic or something. But as you can see, I got lazy with the digital coloring because colors just aren't my thing. And since those profiles are bothering the hell out of me, I might attempt to update this drawing now that I have a better feel of a pencil...

Ethan's story actually has a second part, but I haven't figured out enough of it yet to draw it properly. Hopefully it'll be easier to flesh out now that he has a proper name.