The Artistic Process Part 3:
Glimpses of Insight
I imagined documenting a simple plan for drawing a bird, where I would explain drawing correct proportions, feather patterns, shading, and tone. After struggling with drawing a taxidermy crow specimen in the nature lab, I realized that this piece of art was going to be very troublesome. I became frustrated by the vague bumps and lumps created by feathers and stuffing that stood in front of me. It’s obvious, but there is no life essence in a dead bird specimen. The crow reminded me of the nude models, students draw in art classes. The models were always staring into the distance looking alive and lifeless simultaneously. I remember getting frustrated by my drawings because they looked accurate but didn’t capture the spirit of sensuality of a human body. It was tempting to draw my crow as a fluffy, shapeless, blob, having stick legs and a beak and be done. Nevertheless, I needed to understand what lies beyond the feathers and stuffing of an artificial bird and was motivated to draw the way a “real” crow behaves and how it is put together; I needed a connection. This realization led me to buy a rather over-priced bird anatomy book and learn about the atomical parts of a wing and the muscles hidden under the feather fluff, hoping to create a crow worthy of approval and scrutiny.
This additional step to the drawing process added to my frustration and anxiety. This already overdue project was taking way too long.
I don’t usually encounter this much difficulty drawing, but when I do, I must admit that I usually move on to other projects to avoid falling into a counterproductive “Time Suck”. Truth be told, I get very uncomfortable with the insecurity I feel when artistic things do not go my way, and I usually give in or give up. At this point in the process, I need to question my motives of whether I want this crow to be perfect so people will like this and approve of me, prove to myself that I am a capable artist, or just try to achieve perfection for the fun of it! The negative voices are those that try to talk me out of enjoyment and discovery of the artistic process turning art into work and obligation. Self-doubt is my default setting when these thoughts aggravate me. I know I am on the right path because the crow keeps calling me into the places I yet need to discover, but if the crow becomes silent that means inspiration flew away with her. The artistic process is as elusive as a crow. I have unintentionally chosen an artistic subject with a hidden agender. Although I had every intention of writing a series of blogs documenting a simple drawing of a crow, things have become more complicated than that. Surprisingly, my crow has taken me on a journey leading into creativity, self, inspiration, and some vague spiritual unknowns.
What lies beneath the feathers and stuffing?
