Thu, Apr. 6th, 2006, 12:34 pm
The irony that I'm typing this right now is almost note-worthy, but distinctly not.
Somehow, reading LJ whilst in a room in which I'm supposed to be working while another class is in it is tremendously satisfying, and you should all try it sometime.
It looks like this semester is quickly coming to a quick and clean conclusion. I've done awfully this go. Two of my classes kind of fizzled, and my last three I've only done par on. I cannot believe that I'm the same person that was on the Dean's list a few semesters back. I've been doing steadily worse in my acedemic performance, but I'm only a few more semesters away from that shiny, shiny art degree. I really hope I'll have the skills to justify having it at that point. I mean, jenkatb4u
, for instance, has never had any practical schooling in this stuff, but I'm seeing character rendering from you that I'm at least two years away from being able to routinely do. I recently had an awakening as to what discipline really is, and how to truly improve at this stuff, so much that I actually believe I can teach and help other people do the same. (Speaking of which, bossgoji
, did you find a sketchbook yet? I was going to bug you about it later, but I'm doing it publicly instead, bwa ha ha ha!)
Took long enough. :< Throughout my life, I would occasionally come back to something artistically expressive, but then everything would get upturned, and I'd forget about those things until I could make everything work again. I suppose that did make me adaptive, but that means that it wasn't until high school that I came back to it. I remember how horrible I was back then. I had this silly skinny sketchbook they sell at big retailer places, and I was making strange fustrated attempts at understanding human anatomy and proportion. I think I still have a lot of that stuff somewhere around, too. When I look at them, and compare it to the stuff I fill my sketchbooks with now, I feel encouraged -- it reminds me that I'm getting
somewhere. I was deathly worried that I would reach this point, an invisible wood-reinforced titanium cieling with nails sticking out of it, at which I wouldn't be able to improve past, that my development would just stop. I'll bet you might think that funny: it wasn't to me, and still isn't now. It's been a nightmare that I've returned to for as long as I've been holding these pencils. It's the same fear that really kept me back, perversely.
Alright, back to two dimensional computer design. Vectors beckon.
Thu, Apr. 6th, 2006 09:06 pm (UTC)
Yes, actually! I'm limited to stick figures and basic geometric shapes, but I'm coming along.
Thu, Apr. 6th, 2006 11:49 pm (UTC)
masstreble: Punch, block, it's all in the mind!
Awesome! Very aweseome! Everything starts with stick figures. I wish I had some of those old guides to show you what I mean, but it does. Eventually, you can get those stick figures to stretch out to proportion, and then start sticking stuff onto them. Look around online for guides, but only take home what you think would help you. Have any used book stores around? An anatomy guide (or two) or a figure drawing guide are helpful to page through every once and a while. I have Jack Hamm's guide to figure drawing, and it is fantastic and newb-friendly. I still need that thing so badly. XD I wouldn't want anatomy to trouble you right now, though: that's a life-long complicated thingie, and it's rare to find somebody who truly 'gets it'. Horse before cart, y'know? You've got a great attitude, though: I think you already understand this.
Fri, Apr. 7th, 2006 08:48 pm (UTC)
ghostangel: If you test me, I'm sure you'll find!
I'm still convinced that anatomy, GOOD anatomy takes a lifetime.
Thu, Apr. 6th, 2006 10:26 pm (UTC)
raiblu: Flashing red lights.
It's about damn time. I was waiting all year for you to have this revelation. Troublesome things. You can't really put them upon people...
Thu, Apr. 6th, 2006 11:35 pm (UTC)
masstreble: Re: Flashing red lights.
This isn't a recent development: I kinda figured it out a few weeks ago. I wasn't especially excited about it. I was somewhat ashamed, to be honest. It was so simple, I couldn't figure out. See, you never stop doing it
if you're going to do it all. When you put down the sketchbook, close Illustrator, walk away from the canvas, or what have you, you're not quiting: you're taking a break, and you'll be back shortly. A master just starts working on something else, instead: always drawing or painting, even when they're not. If this makes and sense, if you understand this, you understand what discipline is -- it isn't hard, it isn't a force of will or effort, it's an aspect, something that somebody transforms into. I've always come close, but never quite got there, even now. Soon, though, I'll get it, I'm working towards it, I can almost taste it, feel it, and when I get there, I'll have finally arrived.
...Wow. All of that sounds very creepy and dramatic, doesn't it? What I really mean is that it's a big change of life habits that fosters constant practice and growth, well, sort of. I hope I don't sound crazy here.