Sunday, April 27, 2008

Lost Art

Been packing for a new move, it's certainly been a chore. There's always that box you keep that has all the stuff that you just can't throw away, like letters from ex lovers, your loved ones wedding programs, and even mementos from friends who are no longer with you. You go through this box by yourself in an apartment stripped and boxed of all comforts, and it can get a little heavy on the heart.

I'm moving to a temporary sublease, and unlike any of the other six times I've moved in this city, I'm going to be doing it all by myself. So this time I'm really really trying to pare down what I have - I've already thrown away countless drawings. Feels weird to throw your own artwork away (and occasionally others - one of the hazards of my past life as a gallery proprietor), but there's something strangely cathartic about it too, particularly when it's art that I feel I've matured way past - both craft and content wise.

But I found a few gems, too: I did a story Three Kings (a prequel to Sparrows) that I was pretty, well, I wouldn't say ashamed, but I certainly wasn't proud of it. It had awkward storytelling, excessive violence, and no coherent point, and I made it for a class I took at SVA that I hated. But I actually drew a part after the class that was pretty interesting - don't know if I'll ever finish it but I was surprised at how much it looked like a precedent to Consumed. I guess all I was missing was the brush.

This page in particular was pretty cool. I do love to draw birds.

And as I was looking through my old stuff, I was discouraged that I had lost something, but eventually found my favorite photo of myself! I know it's tacky to engage in something so blatantly narcissistic (but certainly not unprecedented here) but this is the photo I'll show to my grandkids (real or imagined) and say: "See, your grandfather wasn't always bent over like a hunchback from all his work at his drafting table, which made it so he couldn't brush his teeth and they fell out, and I couldn't chew meat so my muscles became all withered and structureless, which, subsequently made me unable to get out of the way of that bike messenger, which is why I have this giant scar on my face and neck and back. In fact in my day I was quite the looker!"

A half-Japanese half-Austrian girl named Mikayla took this photo of me five (or maybe six?) years ago for a project. The week after we went for a mambo dance lesson where at the end of the class the instructor danced with her for thirty minutes straight while the only people left in the club were the three of us and the bartender. It probably ranks right alongside the blind lunch date I had that turned into an insurance sales pitch - certainly more emasculating, but perhaps a bit less dull. Nice photo though. Also one of the precious moments where I look serene, as anyone who knows the kind of dedicated intensity I put into everything I care about, comes nowhere near as often as I or the wonderful folks who have to bear with me would like.

I'm coloring the 11th page and it looks a little weird. I have a whole lot to do tomorrow, but cleaning up the color on that page and posting it are a priority. It's a shame, the pencils really do look better than the inks / colors.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

great post!