I enjoy to draw things, but only in moderation. For if I did it often, I must either show improvement or lose the interest of all involved. My friends can really draw - beauty and vision flows from their fingertips so gracefully. Through the loving process of many days, their thought takes form on paper, colorized and brilliantly shining. I, however, rely on speed as my guide. I start with a few lines on a blank piece of paper and work in the moment, trying to decipher what my mind can shape from a few strokes on paper. Shading lightly as I have need, giving the object a feeling of depth and dimension.
The key to art is making use of the space you have allotted to your work. Suggesting shape by the absence of marks, setting forth borders to your creative mind. That is how I work - I act and see how my mind is able to respond. It is not existential, for I will make it purposefully shaped in the end, but it is a process. My end goal is not in sight, it will reveal itself as I move forward. I do have some hopes for what it might become, but I cannot be quite sure that my finite body will carry out my wishes.
It is a paradox for me - I have a vague concept in my mind of something grand that I want on paper, but if I saw it on paper, the concept would be that much easier to translate from theoretical to practical. The art of suggestion, revealing of the finished product, surprising both myself and my audience.
What exactly is art? My friends laugh at me in reply, giving a knowing smile that they will know it when it manifests. It is a perspective, a view of your world captured on paper or clay. Writers, sculptors, painters, preachers, politicians, and publishing editors all may engage in the medium. Indefinable, beautiful, touching, horrifying, hopeful, or deranged, it moves humanity into action, whether it be awe or revulsion. We learn when we observe it.
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