Reflections of an Art Student (1 of 4)
Rummaging around in the closet, I came across a bunch of old sketchbooks that span several years of my art work after college graduation. They are filled with drawings of people, places, and things; vacation destinations, views from a window and every day items.
I suddenly had a flashback to the first day of drawing class. As we fresh faced, eager freshmen began our college careers, the professor soberly informed us that we might as well come to terms with the fact that "99.9 percent of the work you will produce this year" would end up in the trash can. After a moment of stunned silence, he then reassured us that it would all be worth the effort when we produced that .1% that was really good.
When I look through these sketchbooks, I can see the process unfolding. I see the stumbling, mistakes, and corrections in the rough sketches, which document how I was translating what I saw to the two dimensional surface. All necessary steps to get to the point when I can say "Oh, I like that one!"
I know there are college era sketchbooks securely stored in a box somewhere, maybe in the garage. Perhaps I'll run across those at some point, so I can share them with you.
Rummaging around in the closet, I came across a bunch of old sketchbooks that span several years of my art work after college graduation. They are filled with drawings of people, places, and things; vacation destinations, views from a window and every day items.
I suddenly had a flashback to the first day of drawing class. As we fresh faced, eager freshmen began our college careers, the professor soberly informed us that we might as well come to terms with the fact that "99.9 percent of the work you will produce this year" would end up in the trash can. After a moment of stunned silence, he then reassured us that it would all be worth the effort when we produced that .1% that was really good.
When I look through these sketchbooks, I can see the process unfolding. I see the stumbling, mistakes, and corrections in the rough sketches, which document how I was translating what I saw to the two dimensional surface. All necessary steps to get to the point when I can say "Oh, I like that one!"
I know there are college era sketchbooks securely stored in a box somewhere, maybe in the garage. Perhaps I'll run across those at some point, so I can share them with you.
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