The Problem with Passion

Being passionate about something usually isn't a problem. On the contrary, it's a great thing. Passion fuels you, causing you to jump out of bed early and tackle your day. It overcomes excuses. If you love being outside, maybe going for a hike, a little rain isn't going to stop you. It'll have to be a full-force storm to ground you, and even then you know the second the weather lets up you'll be back out there.

Passion is a great thing, assuming it's directed at something worthwhile. Unfortunately, I don't have a passion for art.

Let's this not be confused with saying 'I have lost my passion.' This wouldn't be true. I never had a passion for art. Intellectually, I like art, and I would like to be good at it. That's what my brain says. Emotionally, though, it's not there. I like art, but I don't love it. Drawing is fun, but this thought doesn't dominate my day.

My true passion is fitness, specifically martial arts. I day rarely goes by where I don't do something fitness related. I wake up early and do some stretches. I often do two workouts a day. I eat healthy because I know it gives me better results. Even my rest days feature more activity than some people get in a week. I love being fit, and I love being healthy. Drawing is nice, but physical activity I find essential.

And herein lies my problem. I've set my October goal, as usual, of getting in even better shape. I'm trying to push the bar even more, set new standards, to finish off 2012 with a bang. My thoughts are dominated by this idea. I can think of little else. By itself, this isn't a bad thing, of course, but this passion completely overshadows drawing time. I'm too passionate for my own good, perhaps.

So, with a somewhat heavy heart, I'm giving up my draw everyday challenge. At least for now.

I shouldn't be sad. I should be thrilled. I've progressed in six months more than I thought I would get in a year. I've shown that someone with limited skill practising everyday can become fairly competent. Hard work pays off. I'm not trying to brag; I'm trying to say that if I can do it, anyone can. Put in enough hours practicing and doors will start opening.

I still have a long way to go. I need to learn how to draw from imagination, not just from reference. My proportions could still improve. My knowledge of basic concepts like anatomy or perspective are virtually non-existent. But that journey will have to wait. For now, I focus on improving my body, and when I'm done I'll focus on improving my art.

Wish me luck, and I'll hopefully be back sooner rather than later, with more cats. Lots and lots of cats.

My Average Summer Day

Summer is a great time.  I try not to complain about summer: not the heat, or the lack of rain, or the then abundance of rain.  Summer is meant to be enjoyed.  That said, summer has a tendency to work people to the bone.  If you climb into bed on a summer night not completely exhausted, you're doing something wrong. Between summer jobs, swimming, playing outside, or even just baking under the sun, you shouldn't have excess energy at day's end.  For me, this is doubly true.

Here's my average day.  Note the word 'average.'  By definition, some days are better and some are worse.

7:00am: Wake up

7:02: Start my morning yoga/martial arts stretching routine.  Goal is to reach the splits by start of 2013.

8:00: Have a shower and prepare breakfast.  Pack a lunch.

9:00: Twenty minutes of meditation.

9:20 - 10:30: Free time.  For this blog's purpose, this is the time where 90% of my drawing gets done.  If I don't draw now, I might not get a chance later.

10:30: Get ready and leave for work.

10:50am - 3:00pm: Working at a summer sport's camp run by the karate school I go to.  My job description basically reads 'keep kids aged 6-10 happy and entertained.'  I like kids, I really do, but this is an exhausting four hours, especially when I'm the head councillor for the day.

3:00 - 3:30: Down time.  I would call it free time, but I more or less use this time to sit in a silent corner and take deep breaths, unwinding.  I have yet to do anything productive in this window, save for perhaps dropping off library books.

My schedule now diverges, depending on whether I work that afternoon.  If yes, which is the majority, then:

4:00 - 9:00: Working as an assistant karate instructor.  As far as summer jobs go, this is awesome, but it has more physical demands than, say, operating the McDonald's drive-thru.

9:20: Arrive home, eat something, go to bed shortly.  If I still feel alert, I might draw.  I think it's happened maybe twice.

And when I don't work:

4:00: Go for a 5k run.

4:30 - 5:30: Free time.  Good time for drawing.

6:00 - 9:00: Personal karate training.  The number seems big, but I spend about half the time teaching and correcting other students.

9:20: Arrive home, eat something, go to bed shortly.  If I still feel alert -- no, hasn't happened.

Looking at this, this is a hefty schedule.  I often work nine hour days, not to mention my own personal fitness goals.  On most days I have maybe two hours of free time, but it's not as if I use all that time for art.  I have other interests, from simple reading to juggling to being with friends and family, not to mention the pure laziness of relaxing to the TV or a videogame.  Also, necessities like cleaning or shopping or doing dishes or petting a cat get priority.

The fact I draw at all is impressive.  I'm making some big sacrifices to fulfil this art challenge.  I've effectively given up chess, writing and music in favour of art.  If this doesn't show dedication, nothing does.  One reason I'm not super-psyched about art over the last few weeks is likely this schedule.  If I can survive this, I can survive any art-related challenge.  When I'm an accomplished artist, I can look back to this time and know my dedication here brought me my future results.  No question.

It's Official

I've just done something I never thought I'd do.  Well, that's an exaggeration: I knew I would do it someday, but I was expecting it months and months, maybe even years, from now.  This might be one of those areas where low expectations are best, for you can then exceed them so much quicker.  Anyway, what is the glorious thing of which I speak?

I'm officially an artist.

Let me explain: my sister invited her friend over to the house, and for some reason they found there way near me and spied my latest creation, Mr Lion.  My sister's friend was very impressed.  "Wow, you drew that?"  Yes.  "That's really good.  That's really, really good."  Turning toward my sister, she says, "I never knew your brother was an artist."

Me.  An artist.  Really good.  An artist.  An ARTIST!!

I have never used that word for myself.  Search this blog, you won't find it.  I'm a trainee, developing a skill.  I do art, I practice art, but I'm not an artist yet.  Now, I'm a trained philosopher, she's a 12-year-old girl.  I probably stress exact meaning and definitions with my words more than she does.  Still, not once in my life has anyone called me an artist.  This is literally a first.

How did I celebrate?  When I came down from my joyous state, I headed over to my account on deviantart.  I'm not sure why I'm linking it, as 98% of my audience comes form there... Anyway, I went there, loaded my profile and checked the box asking 'Are you an artist?'  Boom, just like that, I consider myself an artist.

Perhaps this means nothing to you.  Again, most of the world uses words rather haphazardly.  There are people who throw paint at the sides of buildings and call themselves artists.  For most people, it's not a big deal.  For me, it's a cosmic paradigm shift.  At least one person has seen my lines on paper and deemed me worthy of the title 'artist'.  I'm no longer an outside trying to break into a creative realm.  I've been admitted into the club, so to speak.  I am an artist.

As a comparison, think back to the first time in public school called you cool (or awesome or radical or whatever the buzzword happened to be).  Do you remember that incredible feeling of acceptance, of things finally going your way?  I feel like that, only better, and bigger.  It's as if a whole medium has accepted me.  "Okay, JoeZoo, you've paid your dues.  Welcome aboard."

Confidence is everything, and my confidence has never been higher than when a young girl I don't even know said something she may not even remember.  I can't wait to see what I produce now.  Never underestimate the power of a kind word.

My Other Ultimate Goal

I said earlier that my ultimate goal is to draw incredibly life-like images.  This is still true.  I adore graphite realism, and if I ever get some good quality pencil crayons then I'll adore whatever you call coloured realism too.  I can think of no greater goal for an artist to strive towards.

'But then why have you spent this last month drawing comic-book characters and cartoons?'

An excellent question, dear reader.  If I have to be perfectly honest, photographic realism isn't my only goal.  I'm not ashamed to say I love cartoons.  Love, not loved.  I can still relax to this day watching Thundercats, Silverhawks, Transformers or the classic Batman: Animated Series, not to mention classic Disney movies.  I'd love to draw in that cartoon style.  More specifically, I'd love to create a whole cartoon universe.

Art is a creative endeavour.  Drawing hyper-realistically isn't really creative.  Not really.  Drawing very realistically, generally from reference, takes incredible skill, patience and problem solving abilities, but not much creativity.  If you start stylizing your image, then it's not realism anymore, is it?  Realism is my ultimate goal because if I can draw something people at first think is a photograph, I can likely draw anything.

And at that point, I'd want to create my own world.  This would be a cartoon, or maybe a graphic novel.  Whatever you want to call it.  I'd want to create my own settings from imaginations, fill them with my own characters and fuel them with action and energy.  I've written dozens of stories, and so many times I pause and wonder, 'How can I write this particular scene?'  Now I'll be able to draw it instead.  At least, that's the goal.

I have no vain illusions of creating the next great graphic novel.  I just want to create my own characters and visual record what I see inside my head.  To do that, I need to learn how to draw comics and cartoons.  But before I can do that, I need to learn draw.  Period.

So that's my goal: to draw cartoons.  Likely very realistic cartoons, but cartoons nonetheless.  From this point forward, you now know what to expect from my pencil.  And really, who doesn't like cartoons?

Sketching and Drawing

Drawing and sketching.  Apparently, these aren't the same things.  I've always used the two terms interchangeably, but then I've never had much reason to use these terms in the past.  A quick sketch and a quick drawing, to me, are the same thing; a final sketch and a final drawing should look the same.  'Sketch' perhaps has a slightly rougher connotation, almost akin to a rough draft.  However, and perhaps this is the writer in my talking, 90% of my first drafts are still there in the final drafts.  It's rare when you have to completely gut an essay.  I equally assumed it's rare to completely gut a drawing.

As it turns out, sketches are, well, more akin to jot notes, a visual set of shorthand from which you can later craft a full work.  To continue the essay analogy, sketching is the research and the plan, drawing is actually putting it all together.  Or so I now think.

I don't sketch.  I may have said I sketched in the past, but that's not sketch as it is used here.  I've always drawn.  I suppose this is a carry-over from my writing personality: I don't do rough-drafts.  Well, I do and I don't.  I approach everything, every word, with the intention of making it the best possible.  Calling something a rough-draft is an excuse to make mistakes, to not try your hardest.  No.  I labour over every word.  I make good copies.  Then I inevitably go back and make better copies, and finally a best copy.

Such is my view of art.  To call something just a sketch is to say, "I know it sucks and has errors everywhere, but it's just a rough sketch and that's okay."  I'm not doing this challenge to make rough sketches, to make errors and just shrug them off: I want to get good.  There's no room for rough drafts.

Unfortunately, I now realize this is a mistake.  I've been writing for many, many years, and I've made numerous mistakes.  Thousands of mistakes.  Ten-thousand, and I've learned from them all.  I now have the luxury of using this knowledge to avoid these mistakes.  I have no such knowledge with art.  I don't know which mistakes to avoid because I haven't made enough mistakes yet.

I guess I need to give myself permission to make a bad drawing.  It's okay as long as I learn from it.

So I'll be changing my drawing challenge slightly.  I still intend to draw at least 20min everyday, and I mean draw: work on something I (hopefully) would like to hang on the fridge, something I'd be proud to call my own work.  But I also need to sketch.  Every day, I'll try to set a few minutes aside to sketch.  Well, most days.  Some days.  At least once a week.

I suppose this blog won't really change: I'll still upload my drawings every week.  I have no intention of cluttering these pages with rough sketches.  I'm a novice artist as is; do we really want to see my rough work?  If a sketch inspires something that I draw later, sure, I'll upload that, but this is more of a me-change than a blog-change.

It's okay to make mistakes.  It really is.  If I tell myself this enough times, maybe I'll believe it, and maybe I can benefit as well.

My Ultimate Goal

I want to learn how to draw.  In particular, I want to draw things like this:

http://cubistpanther.deviantart.com/art/Tiger-194838275?offset=0#comments

If you are anything like me, you look at the above and think, 'Hmm, that is a nice photograph.'  Then you do a double-take as you realize someone drew this.  Holy crap!  Look at that fur.  Look at the gleaming whiskers.  Look at that freakin' flawless eye.  This is a piece of reality trapped on paper, or canvas or whatever the medium happened to be.  I stand in awe.

It's important to know where you want to go.  Some people want to draw manga and anime-style cartoons, and that's cool.  Others want to recreate landscapes with oil or watercolour.  I approve, but that's not for me.  I want to take a pencil and draw a freakin' living tiger.  That's the goal.  I have no idea how the artist drew the above, but I will figure it out.  Expect to see lots of cats in the coming weeks.

The Journey Begins

Welcome!

On April 1, 2012, I made a vow: I would draw everyday and see where I am a year from now.  I'm not a good drawer, far from it, but I've always wanted to be one.  Well, just sitting around wanting won't make it so.  Wishes can come true, but you often have to work for them.  And if a year passes and I'm still pathetic, oh well, I know I gave it my best shot.

Is art a skill that can be taught to anyone, or is it an innate talent that some have and others do not?  Personally, I'm leaning towards the latter, but I don't know for sure.  What I do know is that if I can learn to be an artist, anyone can.

I'll post my first results each and every Sunday, maybe earlier if I draw something that absolutely stuns me and I must share with the world.  Note that I have absolutely no art supplies yet: no tablets, no paint, no markers ... heck, I don't even have pencils.  If I show improvement, these things can come.  Anyway, on with the show!  Wish me luck!