Drawing
I realized a short bit ago that I have never been shown how to draw. I suppose in some ways that is not a true statement, as I am sure my kindergarten teacher most likely did... but there was nothing really memorable.
I am not entirely certain how to go about drawing what I see in my head, at least not in a time-conscious sort of fashion... and that doesn't seem so good in a 'let's draw a tattoo' scheme of things.
I see in my mind what is wanted and I sometimes come to a wall between the idea and the execution.
I am finding that the more I draw things on demand, the more easily I am willing to believe that perhaps I can do this thing, and perhaps I can enjoy myself whilst doing so.
This is a new thing for me.
I have all the faith in the world when it comes to things I cannot explain but find myself doubting my own place in the architecture of the universe... and deviating from this norm frightens me.
So... I think I am going to take drawing classes. Art classes. Some kind of something that gives me a framework of reference, some feeling of . Hmph. Ability, perhaps? Capability? I am not sure yet. I don't know what I can afford and I don't know that I am quite secure enough to go to the college.
Closer, perhaps, but not there at the moment.
On a more positive note, the gentleman whose tattoo I sketched was more than pleased with his killer penguin. I, of course, was dissatisfied... but his reaction made me feel better about the entire thing.
a day and a half later
Sometimes I understand exactly where my unhappiness comes from. I know why it is there, and I know what I should do about it, were I wise.
Unfortunately, knowing what one should do never seems worth all that much when it comes face to face with reality.
Damn this existence, let the new one rise.
I am not entirely certain how to go about drawing what I see in my head, at least not in a time-conscious sort of fashion... and that doesn't seem so good in a 'let's draw a tattoo' scheme of things.
I see in my mind what is wanted and I sometimes come to a wall between the idea and the execution.
I am finding that the more I draw things on demand, the more easily I am willing to believe that perhaps I can do this thing, and perhaps I can enjoy myself whilst doing so.
This is a new thing for me.
I have all the faith in the world when it comes to things I cannot explain but find myself doubting my own place in the architecture of the universe... and deviating from this norm frightens me.
So... I think I am going to take drawing classes. Art classes. Some kind of something that gives me a framework of reference, some feeling of . Hmph. Ability, perhaps? Capability? I am not sure yet. I don't know what I can afford and I don't know that I am quite secure enough to go to the college.
Closer, perhaps, but not there at the moment.
On a more positive note, the gentleman whose tattoo I sketched was more than pleased with his killer penguin. I, of course, was dissatisfied... but his reaction made me feel better about the entire thing.
a day and a half later
Sometimes I understand exactly where my unhappiness comes from. I know why it is there, and I know what I should do about it, were I wise.
Unfortunately, knowing what one should do never seems worth all that much when it comes face to face with reality.
Damn this existence, let the new one rise.