None of us, at least no one I know, has led an unblemished life. It takes lots of mistakes & bad choices (some our own and some other’s mistakes) to learn how to live honestly and wisely . . . a truth I need to remember when I’m doing art.
Before I ever put charcoal to paper I thought that artists were born knowing how to draw. Either you were “artistic” or not. It never occurred to me that both art and life simply took practice and that like leg muscles not strong enough to hold us up after birth, art muscles needed to develop too.
It’s been over a month and I’ve not drawn or painted nuth’n – felt completely stuck, bored and unmotivated. I’ve put most of the blame for my lethargy on the classes I’ve signed up for this semester. They are all, because of Covid, “Zoomed” for 3 hours. (Two hours too long to sit and focus on a computer screen). Every class, understandably, all started with the basics – measuring, anatomy, color theory etc. (Now that I’ve taken several years worth of beginning classes the “basics” don’t amuse me and require engaging the left, logical side of my brain which atrophied in the womb ).
- I do not like to draw “precisely” and trying to capture the exact dimensions or likeness of anything stresses me out!!!!!!!.
- When I attempt “perfection” it kicks me to the curb and takes the fun out of drawing and living. I gave up long ago trying to live a life of perfection.
How to break the lethargy was my challenge. What energizes me is experimenting with the PROCESS not be focused on the “product”, reminding myself that my goal is to have fun rather than be “famous”.
So! I found a small piece of paper that was already “ruined” with color blobs smeared on it and I could just scribble and schmear finding the art muscles that had atrophied these past months.
7″ x 4-1/2″, Charcoal on paper.
Another assignment was a “pirate-man wearing a very large pirate hat with big feathers and a shirt with huge ruffles. I changed him up a bit . . .
If you noticed . . . I do not share my photo references – not because of decorum and propriety – because I like to take artistic license, create bumps and detours around the subject . . . and I figure it’s my prerogative to judge how I practice living and drawing my blemished life.