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Well, the wind is blowing again so it'll be a bad allergy day, my wrist is still achy, I seem to have (slightly) sprained my little finger on Friday... so let's talk about art.
What? It'll save you folks a whinge.
As is usual on a Sunday, I've been checking out the posts on Illustration Friday. For those who haven't been following along, IF presents artists -- anyone who wants to take part, not just professionals -- with a weekly prompt. The idea is to create something that fits the prompt, and then post your link to the site so that everyone can see your work. I take part most weeks, if the word suits me and I have time to get something done on the weekend. Somehow I never seem to get anything done if I leave it any later than the weekend, so weekend it is.
One of the things I enjoy about IF is the chance to see people with so many styles interpreting the same word. Not everyone's style is going to do it for me, of course, but there are always a handful of people who simply amaze me.
And then I look at my own stuff and proceed to get down on myself.
Yeah, I'm capable of getting a really silly case of the blues when I look at what artists (notice that I don't say "other artists". I'm not an artist, personally. I doodle. They're the artists.) are out there doing. Some artists' work is so complex. Others have such wonderfully spare lines. Some seem to have endless patience, while other dash things off quickly and with so much energy. Some of them almost seem to be cameras (um... but I have to admit that I find myself less and less attracted to photorealism as I get older. I guess I'm looking for a little more interpretation these days, even if I do admire the skill it takes to make a picture look so exactly like the original object). They all have such fascinating styles, and I find myself wishing that I could do what they do.
And then -- usually -- I remember something.
I have a style, too.
Yes, they have amazing styles, but they're their styles. Something they've developed. I have a style that I've grown into (and am still growing into, and will continue to grow into) that, for the most part, makes me happy. It's the way I do things. I've learned most of it on my own, and it's nothing to be down on. Sure, there's nothing wrong with admiring others' techniques, trying them out, emulating them... but in the end, I'm always going to do things the way I do them because that's the way I do them.
And shouldn't that be what it's about anyway? It's not like I do this for anyone but me.
And occasionally for work.
And I guess there've been one or two friends that I've done things for...
Ok, wait. This is heading towards completely off track, so let's back up a bit and make sure it gets completely off track. About the whole learned most of it on my own thing, then. It's true. I'm mostly self-taught, and there's kind of a weird reason for that.
I've had an interest in artsy things for as long as I can remember. I was big into music from an early age, for one thing, but like any kid I liked to scribble and doodle (not so much with the colouring, though. I had trouble staying within the lines). When I reached junior high and was able to choose optional classes, they were pretty much all about art. Art proper, drama, a really neat course we had called Creative Arts (improv, puppetry, you name it), band... yeah, I was an artsy for sure. I did well academically too and that was important, but for my me time it was always art (erm... and one Home Ec course, now that I think about it. My mom wanted to make sure I could cook, and she was finding me frustrating to teach on her own. More on that another time, though. Oh, and she made me take typing, too. Smart woman). And then...
*cue dramatic music*...
In Grade Nine, at midterm, the high school guidance counsellor came down to the junior high to "guide" us into what sort of program of studies we'd be taking once we hit high school. I don't know if they do that anymore, especially since the system's gone middle school and the Grade Nines are already at the high school now, but it used to happen every year. You'd go in, she'd stare at your midterm marks, and she'd suggest what direction your apparent aptitude should take you in your further studies.
"Suggest", yes.
Now, I was a good all-around student and was intending to eventually go to university (for what? no idea. I just knew I'd be going to university), so it was obvious that I'd be taking what they used to call a Senior Matriculation (do they still call it that? Probably. No idea on that one either). University prep, basically.
But with a concentration in what?
*cue Jeopardy music*...
Let's see. Good all-around marks; arts options. It looks like you should...
Hmmm...
BUT WAIT. What's this I see? Could it be? Is it really?...
A NINETY-EIGHT PERCENT MIDTERM MARK IN SCIENCE!!!
Well, we know what we're doing with you, then.
That's right. One flukey midterm mark in science decided my fate in a big way. She loaded me down with sciences, and I was too shy about the whole situation to make any sort of objection. Five sciences in my first year of high school (the three available Grade Ten courses and two Grade Eleven courses as well, in case anyone's wondering how five science courses in a year is even possible). No room for arts options at all. In fact, about the only option I took at all through high school was computers. I tried to get into drama in Grade Eleven, but the school's brand new computer system couldn't fathom a science student taking drama and managed to eliminate my math to make room for it. Naturally, I had to drop the drama for the math.
My only art in high school ended up to be drama club.
Good thing I liked the science, though, eh?
Anyway. Long story short (whoops. Too late for that), I sort of semi-kept-up with doodling on my own, plus whatever drawing skills were needed for my university labs. After university I gradually started getting interested in art again, bought a few instruction books here and there, and began playing around with different media.
And developed a bit of a style in the process.
I bet you thought I'd forgotten about the style in the post title by now, didn't you?
Well, by now this particular blather should be giving you enough words to play around with for a while. If you arrange them in a different order they likely could make several more posts, even. And that's a good thing, I suppose, because I might not be around a computer tomorrow.
See you when I see you.
If you've managed to follow me this far, that is.
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