An Old Friend

"An Old Friend"
Sharpie pen
5.5x8.5

I came across this picture whilst browsing Pinterest, and I found myself deeply stirred.  The photo of the old dog reminded me of Star, my childhood black Labrador retriever.  I still miss her very much.  It's been said that everyone (who likes dogs, anyway) has a life dog- one special dog that none of the others in their life can compare to.  Sort of like a doggy soulmate, as it were.  I believe Star was my life dog, and sometimes the grief at her passing is as fresh as the day it happened.

It's rare that a photo or other types of artwork elicits such a response in me.  I decided to do a sketch and see what happened.  It has been awhile since I last drew from a reference photo; a lot of my recent scribbling has simply been from my thoughts.  I really enjoy using the Sharpie pen.  It's easy to elicit a sense of detail and illustration without laboring over depths of graphite.  I'm also fond of crisp, bold lines.  Growing up with Disney and lots of cartoon and anime artwork will do that.  My proportions are a bit off, and I didn't frame the dog to scale, but I'm still pleased that I had the discipline to draw it anyway. I could be good at this if I put the time into it!

Artwork, is, well, work.

"Untitled Spirit"
5.5x8.5
Sharpie pen

I like to think that I am more self-disciplined than the average person.  However, I still find that I could improve in this area.  For instance, I have not kept my promise of drawing something at least once every weekday.  This is clearly detrimental to my goals of becoming a professional artist, yet I have chosen not to take this helpful step.  Why?  

Part of it is fear, fear that I'm not good enough, that I'll never be good enough, and I will always work for the man.  (By not practicing my art, I very nearly ensure that this will be the case).  The latter isn't particularly bothersome, but I feel I cannot live up to my artistic potential, my creative potential, by doing so.  I have always been bound by my desire for security, and the idea of lacking a steady paycheck with benefits wrapped into it is troubling.  Still, I dream of spending my days creating and marketing my art.  It would be amazing to work with my hands and mind in synchronization.

Discipline is doing something towards a goal, anyway, no matter what.  It's recognizing the consequences of action and inaction, and working towards improvement when it would be easier not to.  The idea of art is wonderful.  For me, the creative process is exhausting.  I made two sketches yesterday, one of which is posted here.  I got to the point where, instead of refining the second drawing, I got tired.  I felt my muse run dry, the flow ebbing away to dry sand and sawdust in my mind.  This is where discipline must step in and push creativity onward, and this is where I failed.  I was done, and simply didn't want to go on any further.  I have plenty of self-discipline when it comes to cooking, cleaning, housework, staying fit, and getting myself to my day job.  When it comes to my art, it is a notable area where improvement is possible.  I've already identified that some of the housework could and should be allowed to slide to make more room for creative time.  Now it is a matter of action. 

Red-winged Blackbird

"Red-winged Blackbird"
gel pen and red Sharpie
small leather sketchbook

I heard the "konk-a-ree!" of a red-winged blackbird as I walked my dog in the morning.  It was thirty-six degrees Fahrenheit, warm enough for me to wear a hoodie instead of my winter jacket.  The sun actually felt warm on my face.  Starlings, cardinals, finches and sparrows sang and called.  When I heard the redwing, I was transported back to one of my childhood homes, which had a small wetland ecosystem in the back yard.  Each spring, hundreds of red-winged blackbirds would nest in the cattails and puff out their feathers as they called.  I loved to look for the stately males on the tops of the reeds, trees, and telephone poles.  Wings and tail are fanned, beak opened wide, as they claim their territory.  They are one of my favorite harbingers of spring.  Shortly after I heard the blackbird, I saw yellow crocuses about to bloom on a sun-drenched southern slope.  Warmer weather and the growing season are indeed almost here.

My drawing's proportions are a little off; the body of the bird should be a little more slender and his beak shorter and thinner.  I was very pleased with the hatching effect of my pen, but the shoulder patches were too white and flat in comparison.  There happened to be a red Sharpie marker on my desk, so I took a risk and used that to shade in the bird's namesake.  I'm pleased with the overall result.