Studio Notes – Art as Reflection
Life is in flux, and I realize it’ll always be. Thankfully, my health is finally semi-back to normal (though my immunity system is still too low), just enough for me to immerse myself in my work. I’m getting back to a routine schedule of drawing and photographing, and this week I’ve been given an opportunity to focus on those things more fully. So I have been. I’ve been churning out drawings like crazy and experimenting with different lines and strokes – letting each piece be different from the last. Most don’t make it to completion, and I have an ongoing collection of rejects piled in my floor with semi-successes taped to my drafting table. Some were great ideas, but might miss the mark by just a little.
Mostly, I’m looking for emotion in the work, and I keep finding it in the pieces that make me want to rip my hair out. Those end up being my favorite, because you can see the struggle in the lines, and the final decision forced into the paper (usually the heaviest and loosest line). The strokes themselves tell the story of what I was thinking at the time, and it’s an addictive read because of its barbaric process of scribbling, scratching, and scrubbing, with selective refinement.
The process alone says something about who I am currently, which, maybe my older work suited me when it was created, but doesn’t suit me so much now. Now, every drawing feels like a fuck-up until, pushed through the pride and pain, it eventually surfaces to meet its potential. I almost have to give up and force that last push to get what I’m looking for, but that’s how I feel. Art is my reflection.