One never knows where an innocent comment might lead. A group on Ravlery were discussing the possibility of one of us returning to school to study art and she said that she couldn’t draw. Well, one thing led to another and somehow we had set a date for the group to do some drawing and post their results. Several of our group have degrees in art and we thought it would be a great way to get some constructive criticism. For some of us though, this presented a bit of a dilemma. While I love to draw, I have mixed feelings about it. I practically have to be dragged kicking and screaming to the page. I don’t know why. I’ve always been like this. Once I begin, or rather after the first few awkward moments pass, I am totally absorbed in what I’m doing, usually to the exclusion of the rest of the planet. But the effort required to get me there is, frankly, quite ridiculous.
I dragged my feet until Sunday evening, when I decided to show that sketchbook who was boss. Really, it was staring at me from across the room, mocking my attempts to avoid it. I found a pretty spindle and set it up with some interesting lighting, and grabbed the book and my pencils. Within a few minutes, I was in another world.Not bad, considering I haven’t put graphite to the page in just over two years. I just realized that the photo above doesn’t give an accurate representation of placement on the page. My art teacher in Budapest would be aghast! Let me fix that:My mind whirled for ages, thinking of all the things I could draw. But I’m trying to go at this slowly. I don’t sketch. For some strange reason, I seem incapable of rendering something quickly and stopping there. Something to work on. In the meantime, I’m having fun going through my art supplies and paper, dreaming of all the fun things I can do this summer. Thanks, ladies.