Art can be frustrating. I do these drawings, you see. I haven't had an art class since... junior high school art class, like, the one you have to take in school. I sort of want to, but I'm also sort of scared to -- could formal training actually mess me up? I have these fancy pencils that I received as a very thoughtful and wonderful gift, but I don't know how to use them. All those
hardnesses and whatnot... I draw with a cheap mechanical pencil (which is supposedly the worst kind for subtlety and shading). Actually, I can't draw most things, but somehow... somehow, I see plants, I see plant forms, and my brain can translate them and my hand can draw them, and I think I'm pretty good at drawing plants. And I'm not one to publicly say that I'm good at something, so I must really think so. Last week, I did some sketches that I was pretty proud of -- I thought the shooting star and the
trilliums were quite realistic. But this weekend, I seem to have lost my touch. The golden Alexander, above, wasn't even identifiable, and I just gave up on the leaves. I thought the lily of the valley would be an easy draw, something to make me feel good after the geranium leaf and the golden Alexander. But it turned out to be a challenge to me, also. Ah, well. I show them, anyhow, not to solicit reassurances or anything, but, hey... why not? As for the drawing talent, it will happen, or it won't. I enjoy the sketching only partly because I like the final products. I also love how it makes me look at things... patterns and symmetries, textures, the way shadows and light play. I learn things, details, that I won't ever forget... lily of the valley have this little bract-like thing where each flower splits from the stalk; geranium sepals are slightly fuzzy...
Lily of the valley are my comfort flower. Like a hamburger to a carnivore, they remind me of home and of youth, and of my mom. She always liked them, I believe, because they remind her, in turn, of her mom. So I guess we have passed an affinity for these fragrant, not-as-simple-as-they-look flowers on through the generations...
Art can be frustrating. I do these drawings, you see. I haven't had an art class since... junior high school art class, like, the one you have to take in school. I sort of want to, but I'm also sort of scared to -- could formal training actually mess me up? I have these fancy pencils that I received as a very thoughtful and wonderful gift, but I don't know how to use them. All those hardnesses and whatnot... I draw with a cheap mechanical pencil (which is supposedly the worst kind for subtlety and shading). Actually, I can't draw most things, but somehow... somehow, I see plants, I see plant forms, and my brain can translate them and my hand can draw them, and I think I'm pretty good at drawing plants. And I'm not one to publicly say that I'm good at something, so I must really think so. Last week, I did some sketches that I was pretty proud of -- I thought the shooting star and the trilliums were quite realistic. But this weekend, I seem to have lost my touch. The golden Alexander, above, wasn't even identifiable, and I just gave up on the leaves. I thought the lily of the valley would be an easy draw, something to make me feel good after the geranium leaf and the golden Alexander. But it turned out to be a challenge to me, also. Ah, well. I show them, anyhow, not to solicit reassurances or anything, but, hey... why not? As for the drawing talent, it will happen, or it won't. I enjoy the sketching only partly because I like the final products. I also love how it makes me look at things... patterns and symmetries, textures, the way shadows and light play. I learn things, details, that I won't ever forget... lily of the valley have this little bract-like thing where each flower splits from the stalk; geranium sepals are slightly fuzzy...
Lily of the valley are my comfort flower. Like a hamburger to a carnivore, they remind me of home and of youth, and of my mom. She always liked them, I believe, because they remind her, in turn, of her mom. So I guess we have passed an affinity for these fragrant, not-as-simple-as-they-look flowers on through the generations...
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