Drawing is an art, like any other. It’s important to understand the fundamentals, to read well and copiously, to take classes, and, most of all, to practice. Talent is a nice boon that is worth about as much as a decent blow job, while only lasting half as long: skill is worth so much more when honing your craft.
Unless, of course, you are blessed with far more than your fair share of talent pasture.
I, like so many, had a rocky start in the digital drawing world:
But, due to my innate artistry and flexible genius, I quickly improved:
You’ll notice that the line tapers mid canvas, signifying the bleakness of bravado and misplaced pride. The curves signify the overwhelming waves of emotion that accompany self-reflection and honesty as only found in true art. The abrasive end points to misaligned trust and dismay.
It’s a darker work, to be sure, but the growth with regards to technique is inarguable.
Regardless of talent, it is important to acknowledge weaknesses. Humility is always an asset and I would be remiss if I did not admit my flaws in this venture. My next task involved tackling the summit of self-portraits.
I was warned before I began my foray into drawing that hands were tricky. You can clearly see the left hand needs work; the fingers are unbalanced and lack nuance. The right hand fares a bit better (unfair perks of talent; apologies) and has tones of Picasso amongst its melancholy droop.
I do still need to work on proportion as the shoes could stand to be a bit larger. But, this one oversight is a small penalty to pay when the rewards have already been so great.