This past week, I talked to someone about drawing for the first time in probably a year. I went on and on about light and balance, line variation, creating believable 3D space in a 2D plane (specifically creating the space between objects that overlap), why watercolor isn't as tricky a medium as some people like to think, and why it's (watercolor, that is) actually more like drawing than like painting. I kept apologizing for being boring, but apparently, to non-artists that kind of crap can be fascinating, as are most things if you've never had to think about them before. And really, it is kind of fascinating.
There's the part of the artist that's all about viewing the world in this romantic light, seeing the beauty and bliss of it all (or in some cases - the tragedy and heartache. Which is still romantic). Or getting lost in the majesty (/terror?)of pure, uninhibited imagination. Then there's the part where you have to take that visceral response and break it down in a cold and calculated way, so that you can maybe help someone else see it the way you did. It's translating languages.
The inside of my brain, let me show you it!
It reminded me of when I was first getting really into oil painting in college and I asked my professor if he had ever been watching a movie and in a certain framed close-up of an actor's face thought about how he'd actually lay down the paint, step by step, in order to remake that exact image, how he'd match the color, etc. And he said "Of course. That's called being a painter."
It's really the first time I felt like an Artist (capital "A", yes) in a while. For the longest time, I was just making pictures. I need to spend more time appreciating this thing that I do. For the joy of it. And sometimes, the pain.
Read more: http://www.blogdoctor.me/2007/02/expandable-post-summaries.html#ixzz1Ygp5vxLJ
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