The Last Masterpiece

Don't get me wrong.  I don't have any illusions about the quality or skill level of my work.  I've always been aware, on some level or another, of my own skill deficits in the drawing process.  There are tools and media elements that I am completely incapable of using.  It's not any kind of special handicap.  It's just an insurmountable incompetance on my part.  I've come to the realization that, as a result, there is a point beyond which the quality of my work will never pass.  It's simply not going to get any better (at least not by any standard that means anything to me).

But, just the same, there is something I'd like to do before I throw in the proverbial towel.  I would like to crank out just one last "masterpiece".  Now, in light of what I just said, I understand that I don't have the ability to produce anything close to what someone outside my own head might consider a masterpiece.  When I got into drawing, much of what went into my drawing came more from my head than anywhere else (until recently).  Trying to get it out of my head met with withering, dismal failure.  So, I might as well keep it inside my head.  My satisfaction with my work is also something conceived and grown totally inside my head.  I know, that's pretty much the case with everyone.  But, as I've observed, many artists (I don't know how many, but I know there are enough of them to matter) derive their satisfaction with their work on how much it pleases the public, or whatever they have as a fan base or audience.  Mine takes no consideration for thoughts outside my own head.  My failure to relate through my artwork facilitated a totally inner-directed evaluation standard.  And, just for the sake of saying that I tried, I've attempted to reconcile that standard with the tastes of the public.  I had no serious expectations.  Experience took care of that.  I just did it so I could say I did.  I never admitted that to anyone before now.

Nevertheless, as I expect is typical among artists, I still felt the drive to draw.  I still felt motivated to create images.  I still feel that way now.  So, I continue to draw.  Sometimes more often, sometimes less.  But, I keep on drawing.  And, now, it seems, I've reached the point where I'm feeling it's time to call (most of this) quits.  I've reached a point in my life (age) where I no longer have the drive to pursue even the most minimal levels of success.  So, what I do in terms of art, if I do anything at all, will be totally recreational (unless prudence and conviction dictate otherwise).

The thing is, I kind of want to go out with the proverbial "bang".  I want to do at least one more piece, one more drawing that makes me happy to look at it.  Something that I have a really hard time trying to look away from.

Shared here are what are either my best, favorite, or some combination there of.  If life and circumstances allow, I want to produce something that speaks to the scope of my imagination over the years.  Something that speaks to what I thought was really cool from the time that I first started drawing to now.

I'm not so sure I'm going to be able to pull this off.  But, for the sake of my own amusement (or, perhaps for the sake of satisfaction with my own efforts), I would like to try and put out something I can consider a worthy period at the end of the sentence.

I don't expect that I'll succeed right away.  Trying to accomplish this may actually take multiple tries.  But, I'd like to give it a shot anyway.

Gradation Designs: Not Just A Simple Drawing Exercise

I was in a sour mood when I got home from school.  I was studying art at Community College.  The night before, I was up all night working on a large design assignment for my Black and White Design class.  It was to be 20" x 30" according to the assignment instructions, and done in pen and ink, based on an assigned photograph.  The assignment was an exercise in absolute black and white composition.  It was preceded by smaller in-class assignments that were designed to teach us the use of black and white space with varying percentages of black and white respectively.  In amounts of 25%, 50%, and 75%, we were to create a composition that effectively hid the respective minority or majority of the black or white space in each design.  I screwed the pooch across the board.  Utter and complete FAIL!  I should have seen how I did in that set of assignments as a harbinger of what was to come. 

All of the students' work was hung on the classroom wall and evaluated one by one.  When the teacher got to mine, it was like a beheading with a dull axe.  I was frustrated beyond words.  All that work for nothing.  And to think, I was so confident, sitting up all night working on that disaster.  I had never been so focused on anything for that amount of time.  This thoroughly convinced me that all my efforts to do well were pointless.  To this day I don't know what kept me from dropping that class. 

After that life-sucking disaster, we received the next assignment in our instruction on the use of black and white composition.  This time, gradation was involved.  Though I was so busy wallowing in my frustration and disappointment from the last assignment, I remember feeling a bit relieved about the use of gradation in the assignment.  It was the one thing about it that I knew I could do well.  But, as our approach toward the composition was to be somewhat the same as the percentage assignments, I was not encouraged.  At all.  I felt destined to fail. 

The gradation assignment required a pair of smaller designs.  One was to be a composition totally of our own making, inspired by our own imagination.  The other was to be based on another photograph assigned by the instructor.  My approach to completing the assignment was totally opposite to what I did for the previous assignment.  I went in to the back room where the VCR was (yes, this was a long time ago), set up a couple of TV tables, put on a movie, and started work.  I was able to handle the gradation part of the assignment almost in my sleep, so, that was no problem at all.  As for the design composition, I only devoted enough of my brain to work the pencils and china marker properly.  The rest of my head was into the movie I was watching.  The assignment required the work to be done on sheets of 20" x 20" illustration board.  I watched two movies.  At some point I stopped for a snack.  Before the second movie ended I finished the assignment.  Both designs.  I was barely aware of what I did.  And I didn't care.  As far as I was concerned, this assignment was destined to failure.  I knew that my execution of the gradation in the designs was good, but you couldn't convince me at gunpoint that I wasn't going to fail the design composition part of the assignment.  My feeling was that, if my getting ripped a new one was inevitable, I might as well enjoy the ride.  Plus, I wasn't going to waste an entire night on that assignment just to be handed my ego in pieces.  I even managed to enjoy doing the work (as much of it as I was paying attention to). 

The next day, after a proper night's sleep, I brought in my assignment for evaluation.  Everyone's work was hung up on the wall for individual critique by the instructor.  Mine was on the end.  The instructor started on the opposite end of the wall so that mine would be last.  One by one, the instructor ripped into the designs.  He was taking no prisoners.  You could hear the sound of egos and expectations shattering on the floor.  As he got closer and closer to mine, I just waited for what I thought was inevitable.  Everyone else, as I had overheard in conversation among the students before the review, had put a lot of thought and effort into their work.  I did mine virtually blindfolded and totally unconcerned.  I wouldn't have been a bit surprised it he decided to eject me from the room.  Moment of truth; the instructor finally got to mine.  I braced myself.  He shifted gears so hard you could almost hear it.  The first words out of his mouth were nothing but praise.  He was elated.  He went on in detail about what he liked about my designs.  And the thing that really blew me away was that he thought I spent an absorbitant amount of time and thought on the assignment.  I think he mentioned it three or four times  To this day, I don't know how he managed to miss the raw shock on my face.  Jaw hanging open, I sat and stared, entranced.  I couldn't believe my ears.  He loved both of them.  He had nothing at all bad to say about them.  I said nothing in response to anything he said.  I was praying he didn't ask me any details.  I just nodded when he looked at me.  After he finished the review, it took me a few moments to recover.  I looked over at the other students.  I saw those closest to me looking at me.  I was speachless.  One noticed the shock on my face.  "You didn't think about this assignment at all, did you?"  All I could do was quietly shake my head no. 

The fact that I spent so much time and effort on the previous assignment and failed, only to pass a similar assignment almost totally without effort, expecting to fail miserably, and passing with flying colors, disturbed me profoundly.  I was used to having little control over what happened in my classes, but this was just too much.  After that year, I changed my major to computer science. 

Though I decided to pursue a different career path, I didn't stop drawing.  I did more gradation designs (this time just for the fun of it).  I remembered liking the effect of the opposing gradations adjacent to each other.  I still do them as exercises from time to time.  Sometimes, when I get a design just right, I find it hard to look away.  At that point, I guess it's not just an exercise anymore.          

 

             

Deceit Bathing In Ignorance

Years ago I was inspired to do a drawing that would remind me of the severity of a mistake I made and the importance of not repeating it. I wanted it to have as much impact as I could give it. I wanted to make it as realistic as I could. So, within the scope of my abilities, I knew that the highest level of realism I could achieve could only be reached by making it a composite drawing. The inspiration hit me while I was wallowing in despair from the consequences of my bad judgment. I found myself in possession of images that spoke to the reasons for my despair in a way perfectly suited to my sense of expression. The lighting in each of the images fit them together quite well. Though the composite image itself was quite surreal, the appearance of the drawing was as realistic as I could make it. Once it was complete, I could see in my mind's eye the surrounding environment. So, I set it behind the composite image and drew a circular frame around both.

As the drawing in its entirety is merely an expression of thought and feeling, I didn't try to keep the drawing consistent with spatial reality. In fact, from the very beginning, it was my intention to disregard the laws of physics and spatial realism. The things I wanted to represent in this picture are generally considered to be abstract concepts. So, I thought that the way I chose to depict things was appropriate. Especially since my deepest motivation for drawing this picture was quite self-centered. I take for myself the title of "artist" only because others apply it to me. I never really considered myself much of an artist. One of the reasons being that, in my work, I never really attempted to portray or relay any kind of message or tell any kind of story. Until now. But, this message was for me and me alone. And I had no intention of sharing what that message was in any great detail with anyone outside of a certain personal circle. At my first opportunity I had this drawing matted and framed. It's the only drawing currently in my possession that is. For me, this drawing serves as a personal reminder of a place I never want to go again.