Wednesday, October 12, 2005

Wednesday Wonderings

I missed an entry date. And frankly, I don't know that any of you want to hear from me that often anyway.

So, I'll have less time over the next few days/weeks to do this, and I'm going to try and make them better in terms of thinking them through.

Today an artist posted her work on DA. Not unusual, right? When I commented on it, I got a response. That is unusual. But that's not what I'm talking about here -- her response was that, on another board, someone had torn it apart for her and she hated the piece.

I know, as artists, we all have certain expectations of our work that we can't and don't meet. I know that we strive for better and better things from ourselves and we hope that, with each honest and constructive criticism, we can grow. I also know, from the experience of others, that in certain circles (if not universally), you will not be handled with kid gloves when you submit artwork for professional review and critiques. In fact, some of the critiques can be downright mean.

It's their goal to be destructive and show you where you lack. It's our responsibility not to be destroyed, and not to throw the baby out with the bath water. Take what gold there is among the debris and improve. The next time, that rude and inconsiderate art director -- who is convinced they're doing you a favor by being rude and asinine -- will have to find other areas to be a jackass about with regard to your work.

That being established, and acknowledging that this is a fact for those of you trying to be professional artists, is it really necessary that we be destructive in our critiques? I've read some that were genuinely and sincerely teaching critiques, but were handled in less than a delicate or even polite way. The terminology used was degrading and harsh. The response to questioning was "Well, an art director isn't going to be polite. They're going to be rude." Okay, that's true; it's stupid and it's unnecessary -- and it stems from being a self-inflated narcissist with nothing better to do than demean the work of others IMHO -- but it's true. So what? Does that give us open season on one another? Does that provide the justification for being harsh and insensitive -- or worse, deliberately cruel -- to other artists whose work we don't hold in esteem? Does that make it okay for us to rip others down and spit on the pieces, in the name of "critique?"

Constructive criticism will help a person grow as an artist, or as a person in general. In most circumstances, it's beneficial to receive criticism. But if the "critique" is cruel and harsh intentionally, and the "critique" is actually barely (if at all) disguised insults and bashing, is that really helpful? What gets you farther -- telling someone nicely what's wrong with their work, or telling them in a way that's designed to be insulting and crass, abrasive? If that's what art directors and instructors do, then that's their problem. You will have to deal with that when the time comes. I still maintain that it's not necessary for us, the other artists to whom this person has turned for guidance, to be the same way. Not only is it not necessary, it's counter-productive.

And this cruelty in critique is new -- relatively new anyway. When I submitted my portfolio to an art studio working in advertising and storyboards years and years ago, I was treated politely and respectfully shown where my art was lacking. I had my portfolio returned to me with a written checklist of the points on which it was evaluated, and that gave me an indication of where I needed to improve (everywhere). I had that paper for years and years, and marked my progress against it at intervals. I wasn't torn down in a destructive, harsh and ridiculously inconsiderate manner. I was encouraged to work on the areas of weakness.

Marvel Comics did the same thing back in the early-mid '90s. I submitted some sequentials, and received a letter back indicating where I was lacking and how to improve them. There was nothing in the letter that was harsh, rude or demeaning. It may have been a form letter for all I know, but it cited areas of weakness for those pages I did, and it helped me as much as any lesson I learned during that time.

The point is this: do we have to be asses to critique someone's work? With all the other people that will be insulting in the work force and industry into which these people are hoping to break, is treating them badly necessary here and on other forums where they are hoping to get guidance and (helpful) feedback to grow?

I say "no." I say that you don't have to be a jackass and a prick to get the artist to find room for improvement.

I'm sure all of you have opinions about this; that is only mine.

If you want to let me know why you feel the same/differently, go ahead. I'm listening/reading. :)

God bless, everyone, and for what it's worth -- I won't be harsh with anyone.
-JDT-

Monday, October 10, 2005

Monday Night

Well, it’s Monday night again, and for us, that means football, so I’ll keep this brief.

First, I want to thank all of you that took the time to read my angst-filled and empathic journal entry. Some of you almost embarrassed me with the compliments you bestowed on me for it. I thank you sincerely; your support means more to me than I could express with mere words. God bless you all, as you have blessed me with your kindness.

I feel that the quality artists on DA and other places have stepped forward and agreed with the fact that they often get ignored on art sites, or are watched by only a handful of others – mostly their friends. I’m sorry, I can’t help you with that, but know that your art and the sensitivity and expression that goes into it are not lost on all of us. As my watch list grows and my free time (seemingly) dwindles, I don’t know that I can comment on all the wonderful pieces you all post all the time, just as all of you can’t comment on the items that I post, either. Please know that I understand, and it doesn’t mean that I don’t care – or that I believe you don’t. I think we do care about each other, and some of the beautiful things you’ve said to me are evidence of that fact.

I’ll not soon forget the blessing you all have provided me this past week; and I won’t let you go unrecognized. As I can, I will send notes of encouragement to you, and try to keep your spirits up; someone special did this for me recently, and I’ll never forget her for it. The very least I can do is give it back to some of you. One of you out there is always, constantly, providing me with insight and reminding me of techniques that I may have forgotten if not for your input on a regular basis; I’m grateful, and if I can ever return the favor, know that I will.

My watch list isn’t something that I use to acknowledge anyone’s efforts on my behalf, though; it’s something that I use when I find great art, or a decent human being, who says or does something (in art or in word, either to me or to someone else) that touches me somehow. I don’t expect you all to reciprocate, and I don’t expect you to fawn all over anything I do. Please, don’t feel that way. But those of you that added me to your watch list, I do appreciate the fact that you either felt the art you saw warranted it, or felt that it was courteous to do so. If my art doesn’t appeal to you, or if you don’t find something of value there or in my journal entries, don’t be afraid to hurt my feelings by removing me from your list. You won’t insult me; I will understand. And I will still appreciate you.

God bless you all, and know that I care about you all. Be love, be safe, be happy.

-JDT-

Friday, October 07, 2005

Friday Night, and Feeling Better

Today, I learned a lesson about what someone that cares about you can do for your inspiration.

Someone of whom I am becoming very fond on DA took time, from all the dozens and dozens of notes, comments and page views that they get, to respond to what I wrote yesterday, and in so doing, proved that I am not alone in the universe. There is someone else in the world that came about this artistic journey in a similar manner to me. Someone that experienced the same path that I walked – trying to teach themselves the specialty of what they wanted to do.

This person, however, was successful at it. I mean, VERY successful. Working in the industry of choice successful, on a TV show you may know or have seen successful. I think that’s incredible; but more incredible is that, despite the terrifying busyness and the incredible pressure of competition, the constant threat of losing a job, that they took the time to write a well-thought-out response to ME, and my rambling, wandering brain. Me, the one who has no interest in becoming a professional artist, who has only worked to improve for himself and his kids (they love my drawings), who only wants to look at what he creates and be happy with it. This person took the time to read my angst, my foolishness … and cared. And let me know that they cared.

I will not reveal the name of this person here, because I don’t have her permission to do so and I don’t want the gushing fans accumulated on DA to swarm with notes and comments hoping for something similar. What I do want to say, however, if that person is now reading this rambling diatribe, is that I am grateful for what you said, the way you said it, and I hope that we will communicate for many, many years to come. I hope also that someday I can return the favor you paid me; I am in your debt. Thank you.

It’s possible, folks. It’s possible to cut through the mindless, thoughtless waves of cyber crap and find gold. I found not just a nugget, but a full vein. Darrell31316, Nick Dean, Slipdance and Lonevixen, all the folks who either marked one of my drawings as a favorite or decided to add me to their friends list, please let me say thank you. I really mean it. I really appreciate the time you give to me, and I know how precious it is. Thank you all.

And, those that prayed for me when I asked, those that took time to answer my posts in my journal or took the time to read what prose I wrote, thank you too. I can’t say thank you enough. Time is hard, there are literally millions of deviations to browse, and you found my stuff. And then expressed interest in it. Thanks; I’m touched, and NOT just in the head. Thank you, sincerely.

Good night all, and have a great weekend. God bless each and every one of you. I will be praying for you.

-JDT-

Thursday, October 06, 2005

Thursday - A Day of Revelations

I was writing to a friend from DA (among other places) today regarding problems with young people that try, for lack of a better expression, to “cheat” and get to artistic notoriety by drawing anime or manga. It was very interesting to read his journal entry about them; he doesn’t like the style at all, and doesn’t consider it a legitimate art form. I beg to differ on that point, but I could sympathize with him on almost every other point. There are “artists” on DA that have literally hundreds of thousands of page views, with pages upon pages of visitor comments, and all they draw is a large, doe-eyed, stylized and over-simplified person – sometimes badly at that.

He raged against the fact that he, who works very hard at his craft to improve and to do good work, has a handful of visitors, and few comments … always from the same cast of characters. He also, I noticed, took the time to put the IDs of those that do watch and comment for his work in his post, and thank them for their time and their support. I thought that was classy.

When I answered his post, I countered about how I feel about manga/anime – it’s as legitimate a style of art as any other – but spent a lot of time trying to encourage him. I wrote that, in the end, the one that works hard to learn to draw, and draw correctly, will be the winner in the end. If an artist, regardless of ability and talent, can learn to draw correctly and “see” things the right way, he can also learn to capture those things on paper, and will find shortcuts to doing so. Those artists, who have invested the time and energy into learning to see what the world looks like and draw it, are the ones that can draw ANYthing, and ANY style, that suits them and their audience. They will be the ones that can adapt to the fickle desires of the art world, the comics world, the public, what/whomever … they will be able to draw whatever they’d like, whenever they’d like, in any style they’d like, without having to specialize in any given field.

I rambled on for awhile, but when he responded to me, it seemed he was less than impressed with what I said. That’s fine, because I was a couple of days behind his post and he wasn’t in the same place emotionally anymore, but something occurred to me as I wrote. I realized that, if you learn to draw a particular way, a particular “style,” if you will, you hamstring yourself; you are handicapped from the get-go because you don’t know how to draw. You only know how to mimic, and you aren’t able to actually create.

That’s what really came home to me – it became so very clear to me then, and is still rocking me back on my heels as I write, because I didn’t realize this until I was almost four decades old. It’s something that I should have realized when I was about 14.

I am a victim of that process. I am someone that never learned how to draw.

See, when I was a kid, I decided I wanted to draw comics. I would look at the way comic books were drawn them (in the ‘70’s), and watched the anatomy and facial renderings and tried to reproduce them. Over time, I used those things I’d learned to try and draw figures in original poses, and my anatomy got better, but in the end, I didn’t learn how to draw. I learned how to draw comic-style. I couldn’t draw a figure walking down a busy street to save my life; I couldn’t draw a car (and still can’t) to save my life; I couldn’t draw Peter Parker eating a doughnut to save my life (and still can’t probably). I couldn’t draw unless I was drawing Conan, or Spiderman (less so), or Superman (rarely). If I wasn’t drawing a bubble-muscled figure in a skin-tight suit, and possibly with his underwear on the outside, I wasn’t able to draw.

I remember in high school, I took a few semesters of “Art.” It was as generic as it could get, and I didn’t learn jack-diddly-squat, but some of that was likely my fault. At any rate, I would be asked to draw a picture of some kind, and I would do absolutely everything I could to avoid drawing an environment in which those figures could interact. And of course, the figures were bubble-muscled men in skin-tight suits. That way, I didn’t have to draw clothing and folds and wrinkles, didn’t have to learn about things like perspective and how to draw things that didn’t interest me, like dressers and windows and doors, houses and cars and trees and grass and curbs and gutters and buildings that look like buildings and not cardboard boxes with semi-square holes cut in them.

I didn’t learn anything at all, and when the time came to progress, all the less-talented people in my classes, who were taking it as a “blow-off” class for credit, grew more artistically than I did. And, I may – just may – have had the most talent of anyone in the school. Maybe.

There was my chance – my opportunity to be the best at something. I could have been the best artist in school. I could have tried so much harder and done so much more. I could have practiced more. Instead, I allowed myself to get side-tracked into almost anything else: bands and music, friends, football, Jennifer … you name it. I was just convinced that, because all I wanted to do was draw comics, all I had to do was draw comic-style art, and no one would be able to teach me except those doing that particular style of art. Which was no one I knew, and certainly no one teaching at my school; I was out of luck. I’d have to learn on my own.

The chance to go to art school passed me by then, and that was the end of that consideration. No one could have convinced me that I wasn’t going to be a physician at that time anyway. Even if they’d managed to do so, my parents weren’t about to foot the bill for art school, which in their ignorance would have been me sitting around painting fruit all day. What did they know? What did I know? Now, we come to the problem.

At every major juncture, when I fall in love with drawing all over again, I realize that I’m not as “good” as I want to be. That is to say, I lack the skill needed to make what’s in my under-developed mind’s eye move onto the paper. And my frustration drives me to spend money – in some cases hundreds of dollars, on ways to improve. I buy materials, books, videos (not really, but I would if I could find them), anything I can think of to teach me how to draw. I don’t ever get there, though, and in hyper-frustration, I walk away from art, sometimes for years. Why?

Because I never learned how to draw. I have to learn the fundamentals before I can learn the fun stuff. Just like math – you can’t start out with differential equations and advanced calculus; you start from addition and subtraction, and before that can happen, you need to know how to count. I got the basic numerals, then tried to skip to algebra. No such luck, buddy.

This revelation, which was falling out of my fingertips as I wrote a few paragraphs (nothing near as long as this diatribe) to my DA friend, hit me like a ton of bricks. I realized, I never learned to draw at all; all I did was learn to try and mimic the great comic artists of my childhood. And I did a poor job of it at that, and still do.

Sure, I went back and learned the basics of figure drawing – I learned how to “construct” a figure with basic shapes and a “skeleton,” but I never studied anatomy. I never drew the muscles as they appear on the skeleton, despite the anatomy and physiology courses I took. I never took the time to take “life drawing” – and this is still somewhat a mystery to me today. “Life drawing classes will help the most” is the advice everyone gets when they’re asked how to get better. “Draw from life, that’s the best thing.” I don’t get it, even know, but I will capitulate to it. I have no idea how that makes you better, but somehow it seems to do so, and thus draw from life I will.

So tonight, I decided to whip out my 18 x 24” newsprint and my graphite sticks and go after some things in a life-drawing bonanza. I drew things I knew I hated to draw, like a lamp, a blanket with all its folds and interwoven “Y” pattern wrinkles, and I drew my wife’s hand. I drew anything I could see. I did not permit myself to draw anything I was comfortable with and would consider “fun.”

Then I realized that, I’ve seen some stuff done online by a kid who’s less than half my age that I thought was phenomenal, mostly due to its light/shade rendering, and it made me realize that he was farther along than I am. Because all the years I’d been “drawing,” I hadn’t been; I almost am starting out from scratch. I got the same message when I saw the website of another artist acquaintance with his work online – he was so good, and I’m so not. While I feel my anatomy has come a long way, because the LAST time the bug hit I did get some books that helped me learn to render anatomy better, I couldn’t do the things he did. I couldn’t do the pages, the layouts, the environments, and then place the figures in them. I was astounded.

And here I am, trying to learn a new “style” again. I don’t know … I really don’t. You’d think, by just looking at my behavior artistically over the last fifteen years, that I never learn. And you’d be right.

Life drawing and drawing from life. I don’t think a class is in the cards, but we’ll see what happens when I spend some time doing speed drills and trying to draw from photos and from life around me. Can I sketch the people I see? Not now I can’t, no. Can I draw the cars in the parking lot? I doubt it. Is that what I’m going to work on? You bet.

Thanks for listening everyone. I’m sorry to have to admit this all over your shirt, but it will come out if you pre-treat. And I’ll learn to draw; I know I will.

God bless, and I’ll pray for you if you pray for me, okay? (Psych, I’ll pray for you anyway.)
-JDT-

Wednesday, October 05, 2005

Wednesday

Ah … well, I was working on my animation-cartoony-style stuff today, and got some things done at work. Meanwhile, things back at the ranch are progressing …

Artistically, one of the forums I frequent (www.penciljack.com) had a thread in it that I found wildly amusing in the light of where I’ve been over the last couple of months. I’ve agonized over it the idea of going to school a lot, and I’ve REALLY agonized over various ways to improve. I saw a lot of pros, a lot of people whose ability I deeply admire, post in response to that thread the various ways they have to break through the “plateaus” of improvement. It was relieving to first of all hear that, yes, these people that draw SO well all struggle with improving. It was also nice to hear that, of all the methods to get through that barrier when it arises, the most popular one, the one the pros use, is to draw through it.

That helped me, a lot. I also learned that, many artists struggle and hit a wall when they’re trying to adapt or develop a new style. It’s common. And it seemed common to have these come up on a cyclical basis, so I’m not that far away from where I should be.

Based on that, I can relax and just draw. Just keep drawing. And that, dear friends, is what I intend to do.

Art school helps, there’s no doubt about it. But it seemed to be an individual thing as to whether it would be of benefit because of learning or because of “guidance” from “art instructors.” Most seemed to feel that it helped, but wasn’t absolutely necessary. And everyone thought that practice, practice, practice was the best solution of all. It was the only thing I saw listed consistently as a cure for the barrier.

I can now exhale. I’ve not been so different after all. I wonder, as I wander through the many new ways I’m trying to teach myself to draw, the styles I’m “exploring,” if I’ll forget the way that I once had of drawing in that great, realistic, very amalgamated style? I wonder if you can work so hard on everything else that you forget where from you came, and that’s a deep concern for me. I saw a drawing today that looked like the direction I was going. I would have called it “old school,” I suppose. It’s what I wanted for my style not so long ago, in the drawing timeline. It was as recent as the LAST time I worked seriously on my art. Today it made me yearn. I yearned for the ability to do it all – to draw in that amazingly beautiful, simplistic way that animators do … to draw in that realistic, wonderfully fun way that made me want to draw comics in the first place … and to blend the two somehow, to find that ability that the few blessed have: Skottie Young, Joe Maduriera, J. Scott Campbell, and all the others that have found a way to make it happen. I want to draw manga-style and anime style and western style. I want to do portraits like I’ve seen on DA, and do sequentials too. I want to render fully, render partially, and paint and sketch like the pros. I want it all. I should have gone to school when I had the chance. I had it more than once, you know. And I blew it each time.

Now, that chance is really gone. And even if I have a chance to do something in school, I think I’m being directed in a different – and I mean TOTALLY different – direction. I think, should I have time to lament about that someday, that forcing it through my fingertips will be therapeutic. I’m committed to doing something that I don’t think I’ll like as much as art, but I love it too – in a different way. Schooling’s not necessarily critical to that field either, but just like art, it sure doesn’t hurt.

Insert heavy sigh here.

So many paths not taken. I was young enough once to have done it all … to have gone down both roads and have been happy with myself. Instead, I have a pocketful of regrets and am a shadow of what I could have been. I am probably never going to be completely happy until I stand with my Savior in glory, but until then, I’ll always have something that I wish I could have done differently. But, had I flowed that way, I would have been so much happier with myself. I can’t go back, oh Lord, but if there was just one thing in my life I could do differently, I think I would direct myself that way, and follow that convolution of life roads. Where would I be now? I don’t know, but I imagine I’d be happier with what I do for a living.

And, that provides me with a necessary segue into my NEXT amazing dissertation, the work front!

Really, there’s nothing amazing here. I have been asked to be more detailed about what forms I work on in the database; I’ve been asked to assume more of a role in leading these projects, and that’s really good. That will be very useful to me at other places, with future contracts. But, that also means I can’t surf the web while I’m at work like I did on my last project. They were so nice to me … they didn’t care what I did with my free time as long as I did the things they asked. This company’s a bit more fussy about time – and it seems, dear readers, that they are so MUCH so that they’re going to ask me to account for no less than 6.75 of my 8.0 hours there, not to mention they want to know WHAT I did with those hours and on what I worked. Hmm. New situation, to be sure. I have tickets to resolve, I have databases to develop, and I have administrative record keeping with which to keep up. So far, it’s taking me MUCH longer than 6.75 hours to do all that, and I don’t see that changing.

The good news, however, is that the things I wasn’t expected to do before the end of tomorrow I finished today, including a problem that had my trainer confused and stumped. He said we’d both work on it. I don’t need to do that. And, on one other matter, he wasn’t able to figure something out and I came up with a general concept and he perfected the logic for it. A genuine tag-team effort on that one, and it works like a champ. The client should be pleased.

So, his confidence in me rose a large number of notches today. And that, dear friends, is a VERY good thing.

Well, not much else to say, gang. I have to do some more experimentation with art styles, but maybe not tonight. I have to pray – I haven’t done that in some time in a personal, dedicated time way. And the baby is beating up mommy again, so I’ll have to assist.

God bless you all. I’ll remember you in my prayers, and hope you’ll keep praying for me.

-JDT-