Archive for Old Art

Looking at the Past

The last time I was active with my art was probably the early 90’s. It’s been a long time.  Somewhere along the line I lost my will and my ambition and closed that part of myself off.

While I may have abandoned drawing & painting for the past couple of decades, I didn’t throw away the old stuff, and I had not looked at it in years. Today in a crazy burst of house cleaning, I came across the large brown envelope of a portfolio that I stored them in and took some time to browse them.

It was a rediscovery of sorts. My perception of what I did had been clouded over time. While I wouldn’t say most of them were up to my adult standards of what I would consider finished pieces today, there were some interesting things to see in there.

The first thing I discovered is that what I like to draw, and my “motifs” haven’t changed. Flowers, mushrooms, general design concepts – all remain fairly unchanged through today and I see them in my random mindless doodles that cover most of my agenda papers and meeting notes from various meetings I’m required to attend. I realized I fall on some of the same conventions after all these years as well. I draw my stylized leaves the same, my sunflowers are the same, numbers show up as decorative accents. 

Next, I discovered that right before I abandoned everything my skills had made a good jump, especially my line work. I didn’t see it at the time. Today, I think some of it is quite good even if sadly, the skill has not remained. This is mostly due to a long history of working with heavy machinery and keyboards which causes my fingers to go numb, especially if I draw without a break for 10 minutes. I suppose modern medicine will have to cure that one.

But I digress…

I get a little mad at myself when I see now, quite clearly, what I couldn’t then. If I could have spent the past 15 years cultivating that skill, I’d love to see what I’d be able to do now. I suppose there is not use crying over spilt milk as they say. In the past I was occupied with being someone else and my eyes were “on the prize”. I like it better now that I’m old enough to know I’m just who I am and that I will have to be happy with what my are says and how it says it.

Dogwoods Unfinished

Dogwoods Unfinished

I am intregued with a particular drawing of dogwood flowers. I started it but never finished. Something about the piece feels right to me. The way the leaves are completed, but the flowers remain blank. Iwonder if it had been the other way around, with only the flowers finished would it would be more accepted because the they should be the main focus, correct? Still, I’d never try to go back to it now – it tells me its story is finished.

Sunflower Portrait

Sunflower Portrait

Another unfinished piece is particularly motivating. It’s a bust or cameo style portrait of no-one in particular, but the background of marble tiles, was coming out great using nothing but dots. I know I need to address that method and look again.

Sad Kitty

Sad Kitty

Lastly, I think the picture I did of a sad cat was the one that “broke” me. I remember working and reworking that picture and it never satisfied me. It was the one drawing that said – you can’t do this – you are not good enough. I suppose I look at it today and I don’t see as much wrong with it as I once did, my frustrations were in play way back when. Even though I did other things after I know my spirit wasn’t the same then. I became a more “practical” person after that and much of the playful aspects like the border of caterpillars in the mushroom drawing dissapeared.

Mushrooms

Mushrooms

It’s a learning process and I don’t thing I’d want to go back to those times even if I wished I had traveled a different path. I had a conversation with my brother today about how sometimes, you need to mature in order to produce what you wanted and to go where you were ment to go. I realize this is contrary to what many people think, that youth holds all the cards in the creative universe, but maybe some of us need to be forced to learn some of life’s lessons before we can let go.

I’ve long wondered if my voice was still there, or if I even had one, but it’s there all right. I may not know what it is saying right now, but it won’t be denied. It is consistent.