Monday, February 10, 2014

Love isn't the only thing that's blind...



I think my mind is still on how we grow as artists.  This week I’m thinking about the role critique plays because I know next week I’m going to be getting some feedback from my illustration critique group on the latest storyboard* and characters I submitted to them.   You’d think I was dreading hearing a long list of things that are wrong with my images, but I’m not.  I’m dancing impatiently on my toes because I can’t wait for their feedback.  You see, love isn’t the only thing that’s blind.

Art is blind too.  Specifically, artists are blind.  We get so involved in the artwork that we are working on, that we quit noticing things.  A line is a little crooked or the colors are too dark and we can’t tell because the image in our heads blends with the image our paintbrush created.   Or, sometimes it’s the opposite that happens.  We are so involved in the artwork that we can’t see it as anything other than our very imperfect creation.  Like when you have a speck of dust in your eye—it doesn’t matter what beautiful vision is in front of you.  All you pay attention to is that-which-is-wrong. 

If there were a magical pair of glasses that solved this problem, they would sell like hotcakes in every single art store and online.  But glasses don’t help.  Luckily there are other things that do!

Setting the painting or artwork aside for several hours or several days helps. 
I have a tendency to hate the artworks I create when I first create them.  After a few days, however, I kind of “forget” that they are mine and start appreciating them just as artworks.   I start noticing the bright colors or the lovely composition and the wonky lines and flaws just become stylistic choices.  Alternatively, sometimes I set a picture that’s in progress aside and when I come back to it I see immediately the solution when before all I had was the nagging feeling that something was wrong. 

Using a mirror to “flip” the image helps.



I was chatting on Skype with overseas family while I worked on this tree image.  To their confusion, I kept excusing myself so I could run the painting into the other room.  Why?  Because the other room had a large mirror where I could easily see the mirror image of the tree branches.  My eyes wouldn’t tell me where the balance was off or which branches were too thin, but the mirror would.  I’m learning how to use some digital art tools, and the program I’m using the most will flip an image in just two stylus clicks.  No mirror required for the high-tech!

External feedback from other people (critiques and helpful comments).
A lot of people will look at your artwork and say things like, “Oh, that’s beautiful” or “You’re so talented.”  Those people are good fuel to keep you going…but sometimes you need someone who, when you ask them to, will just tell you like it is in a specific, helpful way:  “The face is too round,” “Don’t you think that looks too light?”,  “Have you considered making her hand bigger?”, or “She looks a bit angry, don’t you think?”  I treasure the people who I know will be honest with me when I request it, because they let me “see” my artwork when I’m blind to what’s going on—of course, that doesn’t mean I always act on what they say!

Squinting or using one eye.
There are a lot of artists who do this.  I don’t really.  It doesn’t tend to help me.   But it should be on the list because sometimes you don’t have time, a mirror, or other people…when that happens, you’ve got to have something in your tool-bag to fall back on!

When you see "talent", look behind it for some of these techniques for avoiding art-blindness.  They’ll be there.  And, to watch the process in action, check out this video about a first grader drawing a butterfly.  There’s a metamorphosis so dramatic you might as well be watching the caterpillar itself change.  If you have friends who think they can’t draw or you yourself think you can’t draw, watch it thinking, “That could be me.”  Go ahead.  It’s only six minutes.  

It's called Austin's Butterfly:  Building Excellence in Student Work and is by Expeditionary Learning. Watch it on YouTube or, if you prefer, here's the same video on Vimeo.  

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*If you‘ve ever watched the special features of an animated film, you might have seen a storyboard there since they are used extensively in animation to plan out the movie.  Since mine are for picture books, I just do one sketch per page (although I will group two pages together when they share an illustration and you can see both pages at the same time…this is called a “spread” because the illustration spreads across the pages).  It lets me see the whole book at once so I can make sure the illustrations have variety.   Here's an example of one I posted on my Facebook page a while back.  

Tuesday, February 4, 2014

How To Draw A Cat


Right now I'm working on illustrating a children's book.  One of the characters appearing on every page is a cat.  Now I can draw a cat.  Circle for the head, triangles for the ears, a cute little upside down triangle for the nose, three little whiskers on each side of the cat's little chiny-chin-chin.  But my standard little cat wasn't cutting it...and unfortunately for me, at the time I didn't have a cat around to draw from. Not that it would have helped. Have you ever tried to pose a cat?  Here, kitty-kitty, stand with one leg here and one leg there.  Angle your head to the side.  Just a little bit more.  No, don't run away.  No, I don't want you to twine around my legs, I want you to pose!  Look, cat, if you aren't going to pose you definitely can't lay on top of my work.

Do you have a cat around?  Go ahead.  Try getting it to pose.  I dare you.

So I muddled through drawing my cats in the storyboard and immediately after finishing, I set about drawing cats as part of an art-warm up.  Twenty cats before breakfast?  No problem...those Facebook, YouTube, and Pinterest "cute cat" videos and images actually counted as work!

But it made me think about all those moments where I've drawn a cat and people have said, "Wow! You're so talented!  I wish I could draw like that."

They didn't see me as a kid practicing diligently from "How to Draw" books.


They didn't see me redrawing lines and erasing wrong lines.

They didn't see me studying cats for the shape their bodies make standing, walking, stretching.

They didn't see the pictures of dogs, bears, and furry creatures that help me make it look easy when it comes to drawing cat fur.

They didn't see the frustration caused by my expectations for my own cat-drawing abilities rising parallel to my skills so that even as I improved, my perception of my abilities stayed the same.

They didn't see the cats that, despite all my best efforts, didn't quite turn out as expected.


They didn't see the twenty cats before breakfast.