art, art media, comics, drawing, illustration, writing

The Neurotic Artist *shudder*

Well…let’s see. I have been able to play around with markers, a bit…though I still haven’t thoroughly tested them out on anything. What I have found is that Strathmore 300 Bristol Board (Smooth Finish) works well with Copics — though I actually found that out prior to trying it, by watching Youtube videos. :) Those things are fun.

The Bristol board is basically absorbent, which I think works in favor of blendability with these markers. I have also observed, however, that there is a color shift between the times the paper is saturated with ink, and the time at which the solvent has evaporated off (it gets brighter). I also have Fabriano Mixed Media paper, which is heavy like Bristol board. From a short observation, it appears…well, the colors appear brilliant. I had been using Bienfang Graphics 360 Marker Paper (thin and translucent), for what I had been doing in my sketchbook. That is, draw in pencil roughs, overlay, draw in inks, photocopy, color.

I…have not seen what the underlying drawing (beneath the Copics) actually looks like underneath the Bienfang, though! I wouldn’t be surprised if it were unusable as a rough sketch, at this point: Copics bleed. Seriously, they bleed. Not so much to the side (like Chartpaks, which dependably spread so that you learn to color a couple of millimeters inside the lines), but down into the paper. So if the ink got underneath that marker paper…even though the marker paper is supposed to discourage bleeding…it could seriously mess up an image (which I thankfully didn’t have to deal with, the last time I used this workflow).

The obvious answer to this is to take up and reposition what is — in effect — the cel, before coloring it, as the pencils basically serve as a backup device if the inks go awry. If the inks go fine, the photocopy of the inks serves as a backup device to coloring — in case something gets messed up in the coloring. There’s no sane reason to leave it taped down so that the pencils get ruined by the markers, except that the aesthetic of the pencils showing through, adds something to the piece. Which…would be for me, I take it, and anyone else who looked in my sketchbook.

Have I been doing computer-generated graphics for too long? I seem to have too many fail-safes in place. The answer to this dilemma in a CG environment is to save prolifically, under multiple filenames, so that if something gets ruined I have a backup copy of the last usable form. That…hasn’t been so much of an issue, though, at least so far (though maybe I should expect it to be an issue, then I can get back on with experimenting).

IT’S MY PROCESS, OKAY ;)

Anyhow…I do have a light box, which would be the step I would go to if I needed a new copy of the inks — on good paper. Not photocopying paper, but paper that is meant for markers. At this point, I don’t know how old the bulb is, in there, but it’s at least a psychological option, at this point. Otherwise, I’d be tracing off a window. (The sun comes up once every day…right?)

I also have a hypothesis about the function of storytelling: it enables us to practice psychological adaptation to presently unforeseen circumstances (or conditions) before they occur.

Yes.

I know that’s random.

In any case…I’m curious to see what would happen if I did all this work on one surface (like the Bristol board or the Mixed Media paper). I haven’t yet attempted it, though the possibility is attractive for the reason that I could use limited amounts of wet media (watercolors, inks) on those surfaces, in addition to or in lieu of markers.

A very long time ago I had a vial of Daler-Rowney Pro White (an opaque white watercolor; “Pro” is short for, “Process,” like Process Cyan, Magenta, Yellow, or Black [Printer’s inks]; a.k.a., “Process White”), which I could never get open except maybe once, because the lid had cemented itself onto the jar. I got a new jar of this, though, which I can open, and this stuff — I know — is very opaque. It’s kind of awesome, but I haven’t used it, certainly, for years.

The upshot of using the heavier papers, though, is the chance to be able to add in opaque white highlights without being limited to a Gelly Roll pen or a fine-tipped paint marker (which have both been a little translucent for my tastes). White gouache also works, though I haven’t tried all of these next to each other to see which is best.

I should do that when I get the chance. Right now I have Holbein Permanent White and Zinc White. Zinc is more translucent than Permanent (Titanium), though I wouldn’t know that without having major troubles with Titanium White in a painting class (how to lighten a color without either greying it out and blocking the undertones, or changing its hue to lean yellow), which Zinc White would have relieved.

I…am aware, or am coming to awareness, that I now do have the option of taking upper-echelon Art classes…and paying for them myself (no FAFSA needed), and holding down a job at the same time. (It sounds crazy, but one of the upshots of my job as it stands, is flexible scheduling.)

In any case, I can try these both with brush and with dip pen, though I don’t know how adequately a dip pen will work with anything seriously opaque; nor would I know how to clean it out of any nib which consisted of more than one piece of metal (like cartooning nibs and some broad nibs). I’m thinking of trying something pointed, at first, just to see if it works, and how it works.

Other than that, I’m thinking this is a good place to leave off, for the night. I’ve got something coming up very soon, though I’m not sure about the amount of money I’m willing to put out for it. It is something I’ve been looking forward to, though, for a while. I’m just not totally certain of where in my self-imposed hierarchy of importance, it stands.

But hey, future me: if you find a strand of 8mm blue Apatite beads, get them.

art, comics, creative writing, drawing, illustration, psychology, spirituality

I can’t believe it. I used the Copics.

I made one illustration before midnight last night, and…it really surprised me. I haven’t been drawing in a long time, so to have something turn out nice is almost entirely unexpected — even with all that time I spent as a kid doing illustrations. It also helped to watch Supergirl and be able to study people’s face shapes, out of nowhere.

I did see it when I began to overwork my drawing. I had to rescue it a little with acrylic paint marker (insofar as that was possible), though I’m certain this wouldn’t work if I were working professionally (the white didn’t have enough coverage). I need to remind myself that I don’t have to go all the way from white paper to black shadows, or to let my logic-brain screw up my pictorial-brain’s work. I mean, I’m pretty sure they’re different brain regions, and my logic-brain wants to help (but it’s not always wisest in this area [even though it thinks it is]).

I’ve also got to remember that there’s always a next picture, and it won’t necessarily be worse. :)

I found that the Copic Ciao line that I had in Cool Grey was almost enough for the illustration I did, which is nice because the Ciaos are the least expensive of any of the Copic markers (not including their fineliners, which they call Multiliners). I also…realized that I may want to use Copic Multiliners regularly, as I’ve found the tips on Sakura Micron pens to widen (fray) with use, making the grading of their nib sizes misleading. I haven’t often used the Copic Multiliners, though, so I’m really not sure if they’ll hold up better over time. I do think, though, that the Multiliners get finer than Microns run (either that, or my tiny Multiliners are drying out).

What I do know is that Copic does have a line of refillable (not disposable) fineliners (Multiliner SP) which allow replacement of the nibs. That…is attractive, especially as I know how a fineliner with a broken nib works, and also what happens when the pens get old and dry out (and then I have to throw them out and get new ones, which isn’t very environmentally-friendly).

After having watched some of an episode of Long Island Medium which caused me to remember a story I had forgotten, I have gotten back to doing comic art and taking notes on story. It seems I also have a relatively good workflow going on, which caught me off-guard.

I’ve begun using a sketch journal, and — another surprise — I’m liking it. That’s also unexpected — in addition to needing: scissors, narrow washi tape, translucent marker paper, a copier, (just) a 2B pencil, an eraser, and a glue stick. (Well, I didn’t really need the copier, it just helped give me permission to work and possibly mess up my drawing. Having the extra copy made it easier to keep working.)

What I did was draw in my pencil art (outlines), then tape a piece of marker paper over the top, work through that paper to lay in my inks, take a photocopy of my inks, then lay in greyscale markers for value rendition (lightest color first), and work over the top to regain lost highlights with opaque white acrylic pen (not opaque enough). Then I glued down the photocopy of my inks without marker, on the facing page. (In the future, I might want to deal with this on Mixed Media paper — after I have the confidence to know that even if I do destroy what I’ve done so far by working further on it, I’ll still be able to work the drawing over again.)

What I didn’t realize until last night is that if I’m working through both marker and sketch paper, these two together are enough to annul the bleeding of the Copic marker (which normally will leak through a sketchbook page, fairly immediately). That’s basically because the Copics are alcohol-based. All of the solvent-based markers I’ve ever used (as versus water-based), have immediately soaked through most papers. That includes alcohol and xylene. There are also oil-based markers, though I only got one of those to work one time, on one project (I was drawing with an oil-based Sharpie on some sort of plastic sheeting, and couldn’t get it to work at any other time).

The narrative I remembered likely explores the main reason why I stopped writing fiction. Looking back on it, I just overthought things and freaked myself out to the point that I couldn’t tell the difference between imagination and reality, or between intuition and my discursive mind running amok. Because of this, I think, it has been quieter: if I were a spirit and was just confusing the heck out of some kid by communicating with her, I might withdraw too (even if I did love her, and at this point I have some clue of who it is I’ve been dealing with).

So when a person is dealing with energetic sensitivity, the conflict of not being able to distinguish between fantasy and reality can be amplified. The task arises of needing to tell an inner narrative, fantasy, anxieties, desires, and insights apart from an objective reality containing things that one may not understand, and which most people can’t make sense of.

And then, yeah, there’s the question of how I get that into a fictional format, in order to release myself from the constraints of memoir. Even as much as I know it isn’t my job (or possibly obligation), I think I do have some reservations about causing others to, “lose face,” though I didn’t think about it in that way until recently. In that sense, I mean, it could be a cultural thing where I’m uncomfortable telling the world about the faults and imperfections of people around me (although I’m sure it would be apparent that I’d also be showing you mine, as well: the difference is, it’s my choice and my business if I do the latter — the former is much messier).

I also don’t have to be sure that a thought is true before writing it, if I’m writing fiction. Which…may be part of the reason any fiction exists?

I don’t have any scans for you today. I’m still trying to figure out what degree of anonymity or exposure I want, online. If I showed you what I drew, my style would be recognizable across handles. There is also the issue of First Publication Rights…which makes writing for print publication different from writing on my own blog (unless I self-publish a web series or something…I’d rather do print, honestly).

Right now what I’ve got is just practice, so it’s not really a big thing. But as a bottom line, putting something on the Web means I lose control of it. I know that from having published images online, before, so this time around I’m being more reticent and deliberate.

The Web can also be a very strange place, but I’m sure we all know that. :)

art, drawing, graphic design, technology

Handwriting to drawing to painting

I’m not sure how much or whether I have mentioned on this blog, a thought about the interrelatedness of writing by hand, and of drawing. It’s something that was reinforced for me when visiting an art store today and emerging with a couple of little markers.

Whenever I start drawing, it seems kind of inevitable that I would be drawn into practicing my handwriting in Japanese language. I have a relatively solid grasp of kana (phonetic characters) and a very introductory knowledge of kanji (ideographic characters). The thing is…it’s very, very tempting to try and practice getting stroke quality, size, type, proportion of each character in such a way as it becomes beautiful at the same time as it contains meaning.

Of course, this is likely related to my interest both in Graphic Design and calligraphy, painting, and some spiritual bents such as Zen Buddhism. The last three, in particular, are very related historically in an East Asian context, along with poetry. I wouldn’t have known that without having researched the topic of art and writing within Zen, for a graduate project…but I’m fairly sure that this also pre-dates Zen and goes back to the literati in ancient China.

Okay, and that gets really complicated, with the introduction of Buddhist dharma (way of existence) into China, and the mixture of Buddhism and what are now called Daoism, Confucianism, etc. That was introduced into what is now Korea and from there, Japan, though there were multiple transmissions. (Buddhism is not native to East Asia; so far as I know, it originated in South Asia [now India], and traveled through Central Asia into China — but my sources are skewed due to the fact that I currently can only read English-language versions of the history of this. English-language versions of, “what Buddhism is,” by people who only know other English-language versions, are generally imperfect at best, warped and misunderstood, at worst.)

My point is basically that there’s a large historical precedent for my interest in this, and that I wouldn’t be surprised if some of these values were passed on to me by the cultures of family and friends (at the least). To get deeply into that goes into some personal spiritual beliefs (or lack of them), which I’m not even all the time sure on (see the Dao De Jing/Tao Te Ching for a reference to why I may not talk about this — it’s a short work), but it gives me some stability. An inkling of it.

Anyhow…I read somewhere that the expression of the writer/artist with ink and brush was supposed to be a reflection of the one who wrote it, although at times an artist would get someone else to do the calligraphy for him. (Most of what I’ve read goes over male artists/poets/calligraphers; that doesn’t mean they all were, but it’s what I’ve seen.)

I believe that it is because of the high value placed on literacy and writing in at least Japan, that the language has turned out as beautiful (and complex) as it is. There are thousands of kanji (ideographic symbols borrowed from Chinese language) to learn to read and write, though there are also patterns within the kanji (like their formative elements, or “radicals”) that give clues to their meanings and readings.

I did start this post talking about the interrelatedness of writing by hand and of making art. My concern is that when people shift from writing with their hands, to writing by typing — only — that the practice which allows drawing to grow from writing, and painting to grow from drawing, is avoided. I do have some concern over the fact that most of us — unless we make a conscious effort otherwise — will likely be writing mostly by using a keyboard, and facing a computer screen. Not by hand, with paper (or any surface) and whatever instrument you use to write with, which could be pencil or marker or pen or brush or charcoal or something else. Something that will make a mark. Anything that will make a mark.

There’s a freedom to any of the latter in that you can express yourself not only in how the text is encoded, but in how it is drawn, and also that you can draw other things that are not letters or punctuation! My drawing, really, started in the margins of my notes and writings for school, as a young teen. I got bored. I found a way to express myself which no one could take away from me, without also taking away my learning tools.

Coincidentally, it was also close to that time at which I started to learn kana. I was into anime, particularly Bishoujo Senshi Sailormoon, and I wanted to know how to read the text in the Japanese-language books I had to accompany the series. This was also, particularly, because I knew there were a number of seasons and movies (most of them, actually) which had not been translated into English. The only contact I had with these movies and series were the anime books (these must have a name; they’re an entire genre) and untranslated VHS tapes which I found through local venues.

I’m guessing that for me — at least, right now — writing in Japanese is closer to art, than writing in English. That is changing a bit, as I experiment with incorporating more cursive into my handwriting (which inevitably makes it messier than my regular [legible] print; or my regular cursive, where my “r”s are a bit…hard to identify). It’s probably also because writing in Japanese is less familiar to me. But I think I need a bit of a challenge in my reading — and not from English sentences being indecipherable. (It happens in college readings, sometimes. I’ve had textbooks like this. I’m not kidding. SENTENCES WHICH MAKE NO SENSE.)

I have, off-and-on, heard arguments or concerns about Japanese youth losing the skill of reading because of the popularity of manga (comics). I’m not so much concerned about that at this moment, but rather the loss of artistic skill and development which may loom because of a digital revolution in which no one can even write (well) by hand, anymore. It’s already a given that a lot of schools in the U.S. no longer teach how to write in cursive, making the reading of things like old ledgers written in Copperplate script, difficult to read. (I can barely read Copperplate. How much worse must it be for kids who didn’t learn cursive in Kindergarten?)

I also wonder how much I have bought into that in the past, because I did have to spend so much of my time in front of a screen. Something that no one told me, though, is that going to school online does mean that you have to take copious notes (even when the Professor gives handouts). Which are best done by hand. It’s hard when you haven’t written quickly and legibly in a very long time. And, I’m finding, it’s likely harder to draw when you haven’t written by hand at all in a very long time.

I’ve been writing by hand recently, though (which I’ve referenced in earlier posts here), and…it is easier to edge back into mark-making by just trying to write correctly in Japanese. I am not entirely certain why, except for the fact that I now can tell when they’re right (or at least when they’re beautiful), and when they aren’t. I do believe that a lot of that is due to my art training. Before someone close to me dropped out of Japanese-language class, the teacher saw my writing trying to help them on their homework, and said I had “nice handwriting.” So…I don’t know what that’s worth, except that I know I’m not going way into calligraphic territory. It’s legible. That’s good.

So far, I’ve not personally focused on this Inktober thing, but it is kind of inspiring to see all the works people are doing. I’ve also been able to get into acrylic paint markers…which, alongside my Pitt pens and alcohol markers…they’re alluring because of the use of color, for one thing. Opacity also helps, and it’s absent in other water-based and alcohol-based markers. I wouldn’t consider myself into graffiti in any way, but there’s something in the graphic qualities of marker that’s there for me.

I’m thinking that if I get deep enough into this…work in paint may come easier to me. I realized that Acryla gouache is what I was seeking, in a hybrid between acrylics and watercolors which I could utilize on paper without abusing my watercolor brushes (gesso is rough) — say for miniatures. (I still love Shahzia Sikander.) There’s also the possibility of using gouache mixed with acrylic glazing medium, or the (gasp!) use of transparent watercolors mixed with gouache.

I haven’t tried any of that yet, though they’re all creative possibilities. Right now what I have to deal with is how to get my markers out so I can see them, and how to combine transparent, opaque, and permanent inks…

…and paints. If I try, I’ll find out what works, and what doesn’t. As I’m learning, a lot of art (or at least design), seems to be about that. That, and not getting hung up on what other people say art should be…

creativity, drawing, fine arts, painting, self care

Moving forward: arts.

I was actually able to visit an art store today, and not buy anything for myself. We’re planning on going out again, tomorrow, to a different art supply place…I’m kind of excited, though I look back on my own work and wonder if it is too naive. That’s not a thing I should be asking, though.

The thing is…I’ve done a lot of work with colored pencils, fineliners, and had begun to break into watercolor (with colored pencil and fineliner) by the time I was done with my community-college stint. I have a tendency to have a tight style, as evinced by my colored pencil work, and some of the sketches I made when younger, done in mechanical pencil (yes, with shading and all — I was not one to let a tiny point of contact, or monochrome drawing materials, stop me from making nice art).

I am thinking that trying to move away from the relatively tight style I’ve been to some degree stuck in, is counterproductive to getting (any) artwork done. Maybe, like I mentioned not so long ago, I need to stop letting other peoples’ judgments as to what I do, influence what I do (or don’t do). I may have really loved the art teachers who tried to get me to work more loosely, but that doesn’t mean that it’s particularly right (for me) to work more loosely, even if it’s right (for them).

For that matter, I could be overestimating my own tightness.

I suppose it depends on the media, as well — it’s much harder to be exact in acrylics or gouache or pastel, than it is in transparent watercolor or colored pencil (or marker, depending on its tip). I need to qualify that: it’s relatively easy to control what areas will get color, in watercolor; but not where that color flows, when working in certain manners (like wet-into-wet, or in washes).

Right now I have a family member who is getting into artist coloring books, and it’s reminded me of my kind of journey from dealing with coloring books as a little kid, through drawing and refining my own outlined images, and adding my own color to them. Right when I got my AA, I was starting to do work on my own that did not have dark outlining, though it was reserved for out-of-focus areas. Now, when I look at the prime example of this, I realize that the out-of-focus, complex area with no lines and defined by hue (color), and value (lightness or darkness) heavily contributes to the balance of the piece.

In fact, it does have lines: they’re just extremely light pencil lines (2H, if I’m right), which are nearly invisible in the finished painting.

I know that in school, it was discouraged for us to make drawings or paintings which were like coloring books…as for why, that may have been more about my teacher than about me. Kind of like the insistence on painting the border of the canvas. I didn’t care, and still don’t; and I have a right not to care, and also a right to never do it again (though I probably will — when I want to or when it matters).

But if I can encourage my family member to draw or paint or color just because they want to, why would I discourage myself for doing something beyond it? It’s too naive? No one should make art like that?

I haven’t seriously drawn or painted (more than design sketches, anyway) in quite a long time. Having been to the art store reminds me of all the image-making stuff I’ve put away because I don’t feel like I’m doing it “right”. But what is “right”? Whatever way I’m not doing it?

Maybe this is more about me than it is about people inferring I’m not doing things right (or not doing things the way they would do them).

For that matter…I know I have been discouraged from painting from photographs. I understand why, now: having an image pre-made for you discourages you from “altering” it or from interpreting things your own way, without a frozen reference. However…there are times when taking a picture is actually a good thing. It’s possible to get large images of small things with a camera. It’s not easy to do that using your eyes alone, especially when you would have to zoom in to two inches away from your subject, upside-down and at an angle, to get into proper viewing position to reference your painting.

And, right, you would have to buy the miniature rose.

I do gravitate toward (relatively) large images of small things.

For that matter, I’ve gravitated towards images of weeds, wild plants, peppers, chiles, onions, and tomatillos, in addition to succulents and flowers — tiny flowers, mostly.

No, I don’t know why, except they have nice colors and interesting forms (also, who expects an Anaheim pepper to show up in a still-life). Now that I think of it, it’s been rare for me to want to draw something large — the plaza in Japantown, and botanical gardens (landscape), being exceptions.

There are some plants in bloom here that I just noticed, today. One of them, I really love — it’s this overarching plant with big yellow blossoms — but it is usually full of bees. I’m not sure I want to stay under it, for too long. There’s another time a camera would save me.

My energy is waning, so I’ll sign off, here. I am thinking that I may work on some images, though I am still working on that last necklace, too. Maybe a change of pace is good?

color, drawing, fine arts, organization, painting, storage

Yes, organization profoundly impacts usage.

Today has been full of organizing things, though most particularly my art stuff. While I was doing that, I found the majority of the 2-D work I did that still speaks to me, was done in ink, or in paint. I also did a major rearrangement of my flat storage and of my bead and craft storage (though I just now realize that I didn’t touch the papercrafting section, or anything that had to do with metalwork).

I’m getting rid of a bunch of art from Community College and before, which isn’t portfolio-quality…and to be honest, I’m not going to miss most of it. Basically, a lot of it just records my growth (or was, at one time, a medium for it), and has been taking up space in my flat storage. Having so much stuff just taking up space, I think, has led me to the point of thinking that I’ve already done what there is to do…which is not a mindset to cultivate, in the Arts.

I realize now that I love color — more than that, I love solid color, and the character it gives things. That seems to peg me as more of a painter than someone into drawing, but as I think I’ve mentioned before, drawing organically led me into painting (as I realized the limitations and encumbrances of drawing, and dry media).

At this point, I’ve got to wonder if transparent watercolor will lead me into acrylic (I’ve done work in both, and acrylic enables more spontaneity, for me, as opacity is achievable). However: gouache is a step between the two (Acryla Gouache moreso), and the working methods between transparent watercolors and gouache aren’t even similar. That is if I could be said to have developed a working technique for gouache, which I’m doubting, at this point.

I’ve decided not to work in oils for now, though water-soluble oil paint would be a first step. (Yes, it exists.)

The thing is, dealing with shape and fields of color, as versus line and mark exclusively, is a newer thing to me than drawing, and so I can start with a drawing and then add color, and the effect is not really like the monochrome that it was before. I’m not entirely sure what to do about this, but I’m thinking it’s a point to grow on. The benefit of using transparent watercolor is that I can still let the underdrawing show through. Gouache doesn’t allow this, unless the painting is approached very delicately, from the start.

In regard to acrylics, though: I’ve also discovered that I have a good number of boards (hardboard, canvas board) to practice on — they just need to be gessoed over, and I can use my acrylic brushes from the Art program. I also have a couple of stretched canvases.

Do I know what to paint? No. I think it will have to develop organically: but I can start with still-lifes of flowers and produce. Or, I could do some throwaway graphite sketches in my cheap paper sketchbook, and see if anything comes up.

I’ve also got to hang a bunch of my work, though. That way, it can stop living on my bedroom table.

Today, I also resolved to make better use of the miniature sets of drawers that I’ve gotten. I’ve re-labeled what I could. I also refilled a couple of pens, which oddly enough haven’t clogged yet from non-use; and generally just put stuff away.

The types of beads which are more useful than others have also been getting clearer to me. For example, I would use Long Magatamas for kumihimo braiding (which is why I originally got them, before I realized that beaded kumihimo is difficult when you don’t know what you’re doing) — or maybe bead crochet (though I haven’t tried bead crochet with Long Magatamas yet); but because their holes are so large, I find them less well-suited for beadweaving, as they remain loose and relatively mobile. Because I dislike the aesthetics there, I may want to move them out of my prime storage areas.

I’ve also realized the utility of cheap paper sketch journals. I have one from a while back which I began to fill with sketches of imaginary flowers, including — I now realize — a set of remembered Alstroemeria sketches (I love Alstroemeria!) with the round and narrow petals reversed. It isn’t that the drawing is aesthetically unpleasant; it’s that it’s anatomically incorrect, like if you drew someone with legs for arms and arms for legs because you were unfamiliar with human anatomy. The people could even seem beautiful to an observer who also didn’t pay attention to human anatomy… ;) …and I’m having flashbacks to the Mannerism topic in Art History…

Probably, though, I shouldn’t let that stop me from drawing. The feeling was there, even if the accuracy wasn’t.

I’m actually kind of surprised at the effect I can get with just a pencil and paper…

I still have a lot more cleaning and organization to do, particularly where it comes to the bedroom and office. I also found a bunch of journals. Apparently I have a trait of making a new journal every time a sufficiently new topic arises. Like, I have a journal for rough drafts of blog posts; I have a journal for note-taking when reading nonfiction; I have a journal on jewelry design ideas, and one on things I learn while making that jewelry, etc.

I should catalog them. :)

beading, beadweaving, beadwork, color, drawing, fine arts, jewelry design, painting, writing

Am I still making beadwork? I want to.

It’s been a while since I’ve used this blog.  I thought I’d send in an update.

Since Fall semester has ended, I suddenly have a lot of time on my hands.  I’ve been working on a portfolio for my Drawing class, for most of this week.  I think I made it through all right.

I now have one more semester to go before I’ll be able to get my AA in Art.  I’m really, really glad that I went this route, instead of going the route of computer-generated graphics.  This does, however, beg the question of just how I’m going to use the skills.  At this point, I’m not totally certain about that.  I went into this thinking that maybe I could be a book illustrator or graphic novel creator — because of my training, I’m more prepared than most to write and illustrate the same project.

However, it isn’t the easiest thing for me to write fiction, at this point.  I’m trying to think of when the last time was that I read a work of fiction, and I honestly can’t recall what it was, or when it was.  Subsequently it follows that I might forget how to be expressive in the medium of character.

As things go, though; today someone asked me to restring a couple of bracelets.  Relatively speaking, it’s a really simple thing to do.  But I forget sometimes that not everyone can do what I do.  Basically, what I’m looking at is getting some Soft Flex (I might have it already), a couple of spacer beads, and a clasp plus loop.  I know I have the crimp beads already in my supply.

It…was just interesting, I guess, to look at this piece and think to myself that I could probably make higher quality stuff (ducks from thrown furniture)…but I don’t think that my client would disagree.  I guess my stuff falls more into the “handcraft,” category, as versus “fashion.”  I drew away from the idea of making handcrafted jewelry after having gone on a career-orienting website and reading about how handcrafters make poverty wages.

However, the reasoning for this would likely revert back to the argument that mostly women handcraft, and women’s work is valued less than men’s work — not to mention that a lot of the stuff that is out there for sale as handcrafted jewelry is not done to a professional level.  I have seen work done to a professional level, plenty of it.  But for everyone who creates gorgeous original works out of cabochons, beads and Sculpey, there are more who just follow others’ designs.

Then there is the perennial, “but you didn’t make the beads” argument, which begs the counter, “but you didn’t smelt the ore,” argument.

But…yeah.  I have realized, in the meantime, and largely over social media, that what I do — even though my materials are humble — is essentially art.  I’m probably a step below Etsy, right now.  And I’d like to get back into things, but I worry that it’s a waste of time, unless I do totally become an artisan jeweler like I want to.  In that case, I’d be working with glass, metal, stone, and fiber.  I do have something of a vision.  But I need to commit to it if I want to make it into a reality.

I also met an old friend about two weeks ago, who suggested that I make jewelry for money (I’ve made her a couple of sets of earrings as gifts).  My major concern has been over copyright infringement, though until recently it was more of a good-natured desire not to infringe on others’ copyrights.  Now, I realize that I might be the one being copied…which every beader who shows or sells anything is vulnerable to.

The thing about this is that most of the reading I’ve been privy to about copyright infringement is all about how to avoid being copied, not how to avoid copying.  It seems like it would be really easy to do, either intentionally or by accident — and that what one would have to do to avoid it would be to graduate from the training books and start designing on one’s own — which most books don’t even touch on how to do.

(Well, of course; why would I continue to buy pattern books if I could design things myself?)

Guess why I went into Drawing and Painting?  The line between original work and mimesis is much, much clearer here — even though there are established traditions of copying older works in order to learn the craft.  And then there is the possibility of sending an expression through Art, which doesn’t always come through as clearly when one is making bodily adornments with which one wishes to embellish someone’s beauty.

In any case…I’m still looking for my preferred medium.  I’m getting really fairly decent at both drawing and painting (though it’s still usually hard), and painting…is something I wouldn’t have been as prepared for, without beadwork.  Color interactions, and all that.  Painting is something that I’m really enjoying, though the toxins scare me, and I’m really not sure whether I want to become a showing artist.  Actually — no — I do.  But I also want to draw and make jewelry, and I can’t give up writing without feeling like a piece of my life is missing.

Maybe I have something to write about, eh?

beading, beadwork, creative writing, drawing

I’m back?

Hello!

I’m back after about a year-and-a-half hiatus or something?  I was writing a new “About,” page and started to get into how yesterday was spent organizing all of my little bags of Czech 3- and 4-mm beads into transparent vials.  And then most of my seed bead remnants.  And then fitting them into boxes.  But, you know, I didn’t want to spill over into something so quotidian there, so I’m writing about it here.

I LOVE MY FR’KIN LITTLE TINY BEADS.

In addition to writing about beadwork (as referenced in that most recent “About” page), I might be doing some writing on drawing, as I’ve started up again…and I’m finding it not as scary as I thought.

I’m not sure if anything about the story that came to my mind the other day will be published here or not — I’m thinking “not,” to keep First Publishing Rights open (and hence not have to self-publish) — but if I get really desperate to have public feedback (and don’t want to get up to go to a Writer’s Workshop; or want to hone my skills before I attempt a Writer’s Workshop), you might see some storytelling.  Premises, likely not in total — that’s for me.  But snapshots.

Sometimes I forget how peaceful little corners of the Internet can be, eh?