writing
art
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Saturday, December 20, 2003
I'm happy.Kind of.
I'm looking at a picture of Guns I drew last night while watching First Strike and Finding Nemo (odd combination, I realize) and looking at it, the worst part is the face.
Let me say that again, 'cause it's important. The worst part is the face.
I never, ever, would have thought I'd be to the point where I'm happy enough with my art that I can say, wow, the legs, arms and shoulders all look really nice; the face needs serious work, though. Because (like almost everyone else in the universe) I started out mostly drawing faces and then slowly tried to draw bodies. And I've fiddled with them off and on for the past few years, and I can see improvement looking from oldest to newest in the sketch section on this page, but when they really started looking consistantly decent was just this semester.
Which makes sense, since I made a conscious effort to try and do new things. I'm still not great; I still can't always get what I want on to the paper. I'm stuck in the female form, and even though my costuming is pretty dull. And I can't do facial expressions at all. But I've started to draw people who look rounded instead of flat, and not by fluke but because I sort of know how to do it. And that's quite a step for me.
I then got kind of antsy and dug through my desk drawer until I found some of my old stuff. Like, ollllllld. Like when I fist decided to try and draw something, in about eighth grade. And it made me giggle.
Improvement is possible.
I never thought I'd be better at drawing bodies than facial expressions, and Lord knows I've got a long way to go. But I'm actually kind of happy with where I stand now. I'd never thought that would be possible, but I'm content.
Way to go, me.
Becky had too much free time at 8:31 PM