As part of a 30 Day Challenge, I have been drawing something everyday. Well, almost everyday. Visual art is not my bailiwick, but I am literally surrounded by others that are inordinately talented, which makes me want to be good at it too. Both Susan and Katherine have incredible abilities, and my mother and sister are also plunging ever deeper into watercolor and metalworking, respectively. A few things about this challenge have grabbed my attention.
Perspective is hard to master
One of my favorite doodles as a kid was drawing a cube. That and stars would fill the margins of whatever textbook I was supposed to be reading, while the teacher droned incessantly. The problem was that I never got it right. The angles wouldn't match up, so I always had a whop-sided cube. It was and is maddening. Lately I have been drawing the buildings and streets just outside my window. Like that episode where I tried to eat a spoonful of cinnamon, it seemed like a good idea at the time. Upon further review, I think choking on cinnamon dust is preferable to drawing in three dimensions.
It is difficult to gain a proper perspective on things, in art and in real life. Angles that look square aren't. Lines that appear to converge don't. Plans that seem so crystal clear get muddied by the reality of what you couldn't see from your distant, uninformed point of view. My daddy, who has a unique perspective on just about everything, said, "Boy, better the devil you know, than the devil you don't know." That leaves a lot of paths to explore. Is the safe, known, life the right option, or do other paths afford greater glory, peace or prosperity? How do you define those things, anyway? That's where perspective jumps up and bites you in the butt.
Perspective, once we understand how to use it, allows us to see farther down the road without allowing the view to become distorted by time or distance or what seems like a huge obstacle, simply because it is close to us. We can't always know what lies ahead, but we also can't let fear of the unknown stop us from pushing forward. Even looking back gets distorted over time, so all we can really do is live in the present. "Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on (today) toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus." (Philippians 3:13-14, italics mine)
Nothing is as easy as it seems
When we were visiting Czech Republic last summer, we encountered a caricature artist on some famous bridge. We lingered behind the artist, and in a moment of crystalline wisdom, I told Katherine to watch how he made the faces. They all had a similar style. He was both a technician and an artist. Then I tried to draw something. Epic fail on a worldwide scale.
Katherine has been my art mentor over these last couple of weeks. She made me watch step by step videos by Shoo Raynor, one of her favorite artists. Then one day, she taught me how to draw an eye. I was mystified as it emerged from the paper, line by line, shade by shade, stroke by stroke. She literally showed me how to build an eye. As is the case with most naturally talented people, Katherine does not realize how complicated and difficult her artwork is to create. She just does it. Easy, right?
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| Katherine made this for her art class in about 15 minutes. |
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| Katherine coached me on how to make an eye. |
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| This is a Shoo Raynor mushroom |
Most things are not easy at first. Crawling precedes walking, which precedes running, but running is definitely worth the effort, even with the inevitable, occasional fall. Vale la pena, it is worth the pain.
Life is mostly drudgery
Artists live a blissful, hedonistic, happy life. All they have to do is slap some paint on a canvas and sell it for a few million bucks to some nouveau riche tech billionaire. Not. None of my artwork is going to make it to an exhibition. Of that I am certain. What I have realized is that the process of drawing something, even the simple little doodles that I make is more perspiration than inspiration. When we visited the Louvre and Musee d'Orsay in Paris a few months ago, I was able to get close enough to the paintings to see the actual brush strokes. That's when I realized how much work went into a painting, especially Monet's Water Lilies, which encompass more than 1000 square feet of wall space in its own museum. True art is seeing beauty in the everyday and somehow communicating that in a way that a simple redneck from South Carolina can understand it, while at the same time captivating an art critic or fellow artist.
It really just comes down to hard work, which is boring and well, hard. Learning how to work, though, forges in us an ability and a belief that we can accomplish anything, and completing a difficult task is exciting, fulfilling and worth it.
My thirty day challenge has turned out to be a life challenge. I have drawn more conclusions than cubes, but isn't that point of art?
To make us think?
To challenge our assumptions?
To change us?
Excuse me, but I have another class about to start.
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