Donna ai ka na, kore...

I can't quite remember when I realized I loved drawing. I had always enjoyed it as a hobby, mostly on the side of my notebooks while the teacher was speaking. But I treated it the same way I treated most things at that age, something I coasted through because I could.

Somewhere along the way, that changed. Sitting on the bed in my dorm room, I looked down at a drawing that had already been presented in critique... and there was the realization that it wasn't enough anymore. I could do better. Damn the grade and whatever pride and complacency I was holding onto, I wanted more. To draw more. Bigger. Faster. To fight and earn every inch of competency.

And for the first time, something was actually fighting back. I relished it.

That experience I wouldn't trade for the world.

Patience - part II

I was flipping through an older sketchbook for stuff to rework when I found this. I copied it out of a book about Thai painting (ND 1021 B64, page 31, as noted). Some nice lacquer work in there if anyone finds it.

The drawing itself though reminded me of how oddly patient I was with it even though it was done in pencil, taking a couple of hours. It's much more graphic than anything else I've done: flat, stylized, but elaborate. Haven't drawn anything like it since. But seeing it again now, I'd really like to do similar work with watercolor or ink. If I ever gain proper control over the two, anyway.

Patience

I wish I had more of it when it comes to drawing. Ink especially. Instead I explore in a rush, not sure what I'm looking for. The end result isn't very pretty, but I wonder if that matters sometimes.

...man, I miss pencils.

Shall We?

In memory of my favorite drawing pen.

MIA since May 2008, in Siem Reap, Cambodia.