Learning to draw

About a month ago I started working on a ceramics project. To complete the project on a tight schedule, I hoped to save some time and wasted effort by drawing pieces for the project before making them. In a few minutes one afternoon in the office, I quickly realized I don't know how to draw. It's not that I can't draw anything, but I realized there were certain things I just couldn't do. I could draw three-dimensional round objects, in this case, a cup. When I started to draw handles for the cup, I went completely two dimensional. LAME!!!!

Truth of the matter is, I never took any art classes in high school or college while pursuing my bachelors. O.K., I might be bending the truth slightly. I did take a couple of film classes in college, but that's not quite the same. That class was a bit more about writing than it was about art. At least for grades. And let's be honest, I let my perceived ability to ensure a high grade in a class determine what classes I took. ;). As a gay kid from a conservative, evangelical, working class family in Missouri my primary goal in education was to "get out." I focused on that, and I did that well.

That leaves some parts of my art education a bit lacking. Which, as an aspiring artist, could be a problem. Despite this acknowledged lack of skill, I decided to forge ahead with my project without seeking help.

A few weeks after I started the ceramics project, I had a type of assignment I never had before. It's not that I didn't know the fundamentals of what I needed to do, but there were lots of "ifs," "buts" and "howevers" involved in this particular case. I thought about my drawings sitting in front of me, and didn't want to have two-dimensional answers to a three-dimensional problem. I realized this was one situation in which I needed some drawing lessons. I didn't want 2D handles sticking out of a wonderfully constructed 3D answer.

Thankfully, I have a really great, experienced team to help me out. When one of my engineers with 40 years of experience volunteered some advice, I listened. Working through exercises as a team, we ensured we had the best answer possible. After getting that answer, I was never more thankful I'd taken the time to invest in my own personal growth. The answer we provided blew all the other teams out of the water. We were the only team who decided to draw in 3D, and we did it will.

The next time I realize I need to "learn how to draw," I'll not be so quick to dismiss looking for help.

Oh, and that ceramics project? Yeah, I just finished it over a month late. :D

On Dirty Religious Experiences

Today I had as close to a religious experience in a ceramics studio as I'll ever have.

Recently, I've grown more and more dissatisfied with my own work. I've mastered a few forms fairly well, and I have wanted to push myself to do more pieces and more styles. While my pieces are technically "fine," they always seem to lack a bit of oomph. For those who are unfamiliar, I tend to leave work pretty plain - stark or straight-lined. I may also not spend much time finishing a piece. I've always brushed my lack of attention to detail to one of two things: I don't spend time working on pieces because I'm into "the big picture" or I flat-out don't have time to spend time on minutia. I revel in pure functionality of a piece. Despite this echoes of former critiques from friends and instructors have been bouncing around in my head...

"Your work is great, but...."

"Have you thought about adding other details to your piece?"

"You could spend more time doing...."

All these echoes have been mixing with my desire to make functional pieces which speak to my life, and the things I love.

Today we were privileged enough to have Brenda Lichman provide a workshop to demonstrate altered thrown pieces. Her work is insanely fantastic. For every minute I don't spend paying attention to detail, she's spent countless amounts of time thinking out her style, and the effects she wants to make on her pieces.

This attention to detail was an important lesson, but was not the religious experience of the workshop for me. Instead Brenda sharing her journey to ceramics and explaining how she determined which forms she wanted to create spoke to me. The influence on her work has included many different elements. I'll not deign to speak for her. One of the elements she mentioned was her family. During this story, it struck me why my work has been a bit, er, stilted.

It amazed me to realize I've been stuck reflecting my WASPy (White Anglo-Saxon Protestant) reserved farming background in my pieces. It wasn't that I didn't want to spend time to paying attention to detail or adding elements to pieces - it was more that it just "wasn't done." I focused on the utilitarian value of the piece, and then moved on. Design elements weren't to be considered, they might not look "appropriate" or somehow cause alarm.

As you might realize, I've evolved a bit from that previous WASP background. My life is a bit more colorful and way less appropriate these days. Occasionally Jay will hear me say "we don't do that," but it's certainly not as often as one might think. ;) This juxtaposition with my life and work has been the source of dissatisfaction with my work. While there's no easy fix for finding my style, it does harbinger the possibility that my work and life will be able to reconcile.