More Ink, Less Pretty
Dish garden with cacti and shells, 4 x 6", fountain pen with watercolor
This was last night's experiment. I had some technical problems - unlike the absorbent envelope the night before, the fountain pen ink (Noodler's) ran incredibly on this better paper when I wet it. Although I liked the original drawing without any color or wash on it, once I'd gotten any of it wet there was no turning back, so I carried on, and went back with the pen afterward to emphasize some of the lines.
I kind of like how weird it is: the lurid blue, the way the curves of the cacti are echoed in the shells, and the overall rather menacing, sinister effect. This is closer to what was happening with the Iceland drawings, where the moss and lichens on volcanic rocks morphed into something else, less identifiable, where the eye is no longer quite sure of the scale of things. Here the technical problems and the chosen materials affected my ability to control the contrasts as much as I would have liked, and I lost some of the energy of the lines when they got wet. But I learned some things too. It could go further still.
In a comment on the previous post, Jean wrote about a recent exhibition of the work of Morandi that she'd seen in London, and how perfectionism and minimalism can also create a deep emotional impact. That was a very valuable comment for me right now; it helps me think. I replied:
As I've thought more about this, I'm realizing it's not so much the
style as the intent of the drawing. I think I've let myself be influenced too
much by the wonderful Urban Sketcher movement - which I love - but their goals are not the same as mine. Sketching as a daily practice is valuable in and
of itself, too. I've seen still lives -- Morandi is one great example -
where definite choices were made and a mood established, and the work
goes beyond a careful representation of objects. Realism and/or
minimalism aren't the stumbling block for me as much as the need to
think through what I want to do with the drawings or paintings; what I
want to say.
I do love what the Urban Sketchers are doing, and their example has encouraged me to reestablish a practice of sketching a lot, and often. I have a special section in my feed reader for drawing and art blogs, and they're often the first thing I check now; I find them inspiring, interesting, and often just plain fun. It's just that what i really want to do with my artwork at this point is somewhat different. That's not intended as a value judgement at all, it's a reminder to myself to keep my eye on my own ball and not get too sidetracked. Selling work online can be the same kind of distraction and temptation for me: I start thinking about making work that I think will sell rather than keeping to a steady path that involves challenge, growth, risk, self-confrontation, and, frankly, pain.
It's not simple. Everything has to work together: the choice of medium, the style and technique, the very deliberate choice and arrangement of the subject, the intention, and most especially the feeling of the artist during the making of the work, allowing chance to enter in, allowing flow. (The same could be said about all the arts.) I'm not up to that level of mastery yet -- it feels almost impossible -- but it's worth striving toward.
