creating and thinking

[moominmolly]

So, I've been trying to learn to make quick sketches of objects that are satisfying to me, in the hopes of eventually being able to doodle things in a way that amuses Natalie and also to sketch the images I see in my head all the time. But when I sat down to draw, I discovered that I can do crummy stick figures, or meticulously-shaded precise copies of real objects, but nothing in between. Argh! So I've been trying to scale back my meticulous copying and get more confident in the lines I'm drawing in the hopes of eventually scaling it back to something that could reasonably be called a quick sketch. For reference, here are some crummy phonecam shots: here's our TV remote, with the remote placed at a slightly different angle in the photo than I was drawing it at -- that took me about 90 minutes. Here is one of my car keys under the weird lights in Starbucks -- that was about 45 minutes. Better! And here is the result of me trying to draw that keychain in five minutes. (Unfortunately, the crumminess of the phone camera doesn't show you the finer lines there -- this is both good and bad, since they give depth to the drawing, but also are a little lumpy.)

Having such a (relatively) tight constraint did make me much more confident in the lines that I was drawing, but I'm definitely, definitely stuck with the following problem: line drawings are unsatisfying to my brain, since what I see when I look at an object is mostly the way light falls on it. If I look at an object with the intent of, I don't know, perceiving it visually rather than just parsing what it is and what I can do with it, what I see is shading and reflection, where the light sources are and what kinds of shadows the object is casting. So, I don't know, I'm stuck! How on earth do I learn to draw quickly if what I want to draw isn't the form of the thing itself?

Last year, I decided, kind of arbitrarily, to take a photo a day for a hundred days. It was VERY productive to me to get in the habit of taking a picture every day and posting it at the end of the day -- it freed me from having to care about whether it was perfect, since, well, I had to post something. A lot of things came out of that, for me; it was useful enough that I wanted to try it again this year, definitely, but being who I am, I also wanted to shake it up a bit and try it in a new way. So, this year, I decided to break it up into ten ten-day projects. My idea was that at the beginning of each ten-day period, I would choose a different theme and take a photo in that style every day. The first ten days, I devoted to taking photos of letter shapes in an urban setting, with the intent of capturing LOTS of the alphabet during that period, and the whole thing by the end of my hundred days. You can see them on snap_pop, marked 1 through 10 out of 100, and I've got plenty more at home in my iPhoto library. I'm really only missing a couple. Yay me.

The first mini-project as a whole was pretty successful, but I found two interesting and unexpected things: first, that it radically altered the way I looked at the world all the time, causing me to hunt out letters in the forms and outlines of objects, nearly ignoring their light and shadow; and second, that the act of posting each individual photo was FAR less satisfying than it had been last year, being secondary to the mini-project rather than a project in its own right.

When those ten days were up, I took a free-association day, figuring that I'd post my favorite shot from that day and make a ten-day theme around whatever it was. I rather liked this doorbell, so I chose "broken things" as my theme, thinking, hey! there's a lot of pretty broken stuff in the world! But you know what? This theme has also radically altered my perception of the world -- I'm walking around all the time, seeing things that are busted and peeling and dingy and useless. There's a lot more UGLY broken stuff in the world than pretty broken stuff. Wednesday I had to take this just to put in a little whimsy, and Thursday I punted entirely, figuring, fuck! I need a break! I'll just take two on Friday! I am TIRED of seeing broken things! It is depressing! Last night, over margaritas, ectophylla likened it to suddenly noticing plants all over when she started gardening, or the way when I got pregnant suddenly I saw pregnant people everywhere. Except instead of plants or pregnant bellies, it was busted stuff. I tell you, when this theme is over, I am totally not picking anything remotely depressing for the next one.

Anyway, this gets me to wondering: would it be possible for me to alter the way I see things in such a way that I would have no trouble creating and enjoying line drawings? And if I did that, would my experience of the world be slightly less rich? Would my photos be different? Would I be different, act differently?

Please, if you have any experience learning to draw (or teaching drawing, miss_chance!), stop me from this ceaseless pondering and tell me how to learn to draw something simple and cartoony before I disappear into my own navel forever.

Comments

[touchofgrey.livejournal.com]

I can't recommend enough the Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain (http://www.amazon.com/New-Drawing-Right-Side-Brain/dp/0874774241) book. While I'd already taken drawing classes by the time I found this book, my teacher in high school (at least partially) used this method and I seriously went from stick figures to fairly realistic drawings in weeks. This (http://pics.livejournal.com/touchofgrey/pic/000aee4p) was my final project in Drawing II. Not perfect, but I'm pretty proud of it. :-)

[twoeleven.livejournal.com]

have you tried chalk and charcoal? they're the classical way of learning how to draw light and shadow.

[nex0s.livejournal.com]

I've been drawing since I was a kid, and now am doing LANDdraw (http://landdraw.blogspot.com/) (suspended for a short time).

First of all, the way you are drawing, is totally different from *sketching*. You're doing very careful (and very nice) detailed drawings. A sketch captures the essence of a thing without the detail. The sketch is all about line - it does capture volume and light and dark, but it does the essence of the thing, sans detail.

I'd try an exercise of sketching something living - Natalie or a pet or something. Set the time for 45 minutes, but force yourself to do 10 drawings in that 45 minutes.

As for "not drawing the thing itself" that is great! You are on your way! A big part of drawing is drawing the "negative space" - the space around the object. If you draw the shadows, you will find that the thing you didn't draw is shown.

So, draw the shadows. And don't let yourself work on a drawing for more than 5 minutes.

Also, give yourself a break :) I draw for a living. On computer and by hand. I often need to sketch things out - I do it at least weekly and sometimes daily, and sometimes for whole days at a time. And even now I have sketches that I am *mortified* were the result of my hand. And a few that rock.

So, yeah. Time :) Practice. Most importantly: let go.

N.

... my best drawing teacher...

[gothtique.livejournal.com]

taught us to draw on kraft paper ( old paper bags, what ever) and draw in black and white charcoal/chalk pencil.

He piled a stack of stools randomly in the middle of the room ( cups work) turned a bright spot light on them, and told us to start by just drawing the tops... circles from every angle.
The next week... we drew the tops and the legs...
Only draw what you SEE... yes, we all know the top is round, but what does it really look like.
Forget what you know is true, draw what you see...
by the end of the sememster, we had worked our way up to drawing light and shadows and full grown chairs!

It changed the way I saw things...
good luck!
=j=

[amber-phoenix.livejournal.com]

do you know threadwalker? that's who i would ask. (perhaps you should fly out here and ask her ;) )

[moonshadow.livejournal.com]

I had problems with doing sketches also. A few things helped me were doing blind contour drawings (you do just one line to represent something, and you don't look at the page) and using very small pieces of paper and setting a time limit. One way to enforce the time limit is to move yourself after a set amount of time (10 minutes?) so you CAN'T keep doing the same drawing.

I'm using an icon here from my favorite erotic contour drawing artist, Francois Dubeau.

[fanw.livejournal.com]

I had no idea you could draw! (And you can. You're just asking now for refinement.) As someone who has next to nill capabilities in the visual arts department, I am very impressed!

I'm definitely no expert, but:

[vespid-interest.livejournal.com]

I did life drawing at work for several years and we'd always start out with 30-second or 1-minute "gesture" sketches. (A person would hold a pose for about that long, which allows them to do more dynamic positions since they could switch as soon as they got tired.) They were *super* hard for me but a great challenge. It might would be worth trying on non-living objects. It will probably be frustrating because nothing you do looks finished (and you can't cheat by saying "I'll just do two minutes on this one") but by doing them every week I really did start to see poses differently. I don't think it affected my sense of outlines exactly, but it did make me look for the most important shapes & lines first and there was only the briefest time to think about shading.

Also, check out "illustration No. 3" on this page:
http://www.awn.com/mag/issue3.7/3.7pages/3.7vilppu.html
It is worth doing exercises with shapes like this to see how they work in 3D. This is perhaps the biggest skill I started to acquire and the thing that most changed how I can see things. You basically take a mental blob of play-doh and bend it around in your head and try to draw it. Actually just drawing bent, edgeless solids without a particular shape in mind is good. You can try spheroids too. This is the sort of excercise you can do intermittently for months.
The 3D comment really is about seeing 3D shapes in 2D lines. Mentally tracing the leading edge of one of those blobs, without lifting your pencil, and thinking to yourself "now it's coming at me, now it's backing off, now it's going horizontally." This might be what you're looking for.

[laurenhat.livejournal.com]

I have a hunch that you might really like working with charcoal, and possibly chalk pastels. One of the best things for me about taking a drawing class in college was that it got me away from line drawings and pencil. Other media turn out to be really good for exploring more depth, lighting, and texture. I did a self-portrait by candlelight once, and charcoal (plus judicious use of an eraser) let me play with light a lot more than pencil. (here's the silly result.) Anyway, I'd give that a try!

[jovianconsensus.livejournal.com]

I want to be able to draw, too! I did some work on this by taking two classes at the Cambridge Center for Etc. about a year ago. The first one was no experience necessary, rapid-fire life drawing. The instructor was great, provided a lot of energy, and had a particular way of teaching that asked us leave out details.

The second was a portrait class, much more detailed and slower moving. I'm pretty happy with some of my results there, but it was more stressful for me because I had to correct early mistakes if I was to spend a full hour on one drawing. I've been a little stuck for where to go from here. I still haven't been able to draw things that aren't people. I'd like to take the first instructor's advanced class but I have a schedule conflict. If that ever clears up, I'm there.

ooh, pick me!

[miss-chance.livejournal.com]

Well, since you asked... :-)

As you might imagine, this is a topic I feel strongly about. I've staked a fairly high percentage of my professional career on my belief that it *is* possible (and rewarding) for people to learn to draw and learn to see differently. Helping people do that is a big part of what I do, and it matters a lot to me.

You've already put your finger on what I think is the main issue, of course. It's that it isn't a matter of simply "learning to draw," but a matter of changing how you see. This is totally possible, and really awesomely fun.

Both roozle and istemi have taken on "sketch-a-day" disciplines and have had incredible results from it. Each of them have used different books or references to guide them some, and then have taken off on it on their own (much like your "looking for broken things" project, which sounds totally great). You might really want to talk to them about how they approached it. I've been taking notes from them to use next time I teach drawing.

I *so* empathize with the frustration of having developed an ability to draw detailed rendered objects from life, but little from your head. That's a tricky one that has plagued me off and on, too, but it's surmountable, too, I believe.

So you can draw what you see, but can't draw what you can't see. Okay, fine, so work on being better able to see what doesn't exist. The easiest way I can think of to practice seeing something that doesn't exist is to work on seeing things that recently existed. Try drawing from memory. I like your exercise of trying to imagine the tv-remote at a slightly different angle, but I would suggest a series of exercises in which you put the object out on one table, and set up your sketchbook on a table facing the other direction. Sketch One: time 3 minutes of looking at the object, then go and sketch it without looking. Turn back and look for 3 minutes more and do a new one. Try looking for 7 minutes then sketching. Try sketching something you saw yesterday that really struck your fancy. Try ending each day by sketching something, some place, some little scene, that you saw during that day. And, especially since you find yourself more activated by the light and shadow than by the lines of things, make it a point to try to capture the mood and tone of the moment.

I think what you'll find is that very soon you start seeing things differently. You'll start lingering longer looking at things, trying to remember them so you can sketch them later.

I know what you said you wanted to do was sketch from your imagination, but I think that visual imagination gets more vivid and tangible as visual memory and attention gets developed. You see the idea in your head, but when you try to sketch it, it flickers and vanishes? I think if you're used to drawing from memory, that won't be as big a problem. You'll be able to draw it, even if you can no longer see it in your head, and you'll be able to hold it in your head longer, too.

I tell my students that as much as we are learning to draw, we are learning to see. I think you already said something like that, and already have a sense of the connection of the two, so I think you're in a good place to keep developing those skills.

If you decide to try some drawing from memory exercises, let me know how they turn out for you (after, say, a month or so).

Sorry to go on for so long, it's not really a topic I know how to be brief about. Thanks for asking!