Feb. 27th, 2010

Drawing

Feb. 27th, 2010 07:20 pm
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Any kind of art is a matter of self-expression. For me drawing has been the most convenient and familiar medium, most often with pencil. I've drawn to alleviate boredom and I've drawn because I didn't know how else I could express emotions too strong for me to deal with. Usually I would doodle, since school has been most of life, that's where I doodled. I would draw dinosaurs and variations thereof, I liked dinosaurs. Those were most often boredom drawings. I got pretty good at drawing those, though I never got too good at drawing appendages.

Getting emotional, even if I didn't show it outwardly, I think it could be seen in my drawings. The drawings would get more abstract, but they were things I appreciated afterward, I still do.

When I was putting myself through the issues with moving to and from Albuquerque and being with Sam I was drawing a lot of abstract things. When I was sitting in the office waiting for this or that, or even during classes, I would sit and just draw. It was a bit strange, but I started using words in my drawings. I haven't thought about it until now about why I might have started that. I still don't use words very often.

In Arizona I knew a young man, who was older than me, when we lived in an apartment. I don't remember his name now, but he was sort of a role model as far as being a person is concerned. He wasn't the most straight-edge friend I ever had, but I never had a problem with it. That was unique. He usually wasn't at home, he spent a lot of time on the street, he smoked. One night, late night, everyone else had gone inside. We just walked through the parking lot really. There was a little park nearby as part of the apartment complex grounds. We spent some time there too. I'm still not sure why, but he gave me a lot of advice. Off-hand I mentioned that I like to draw, and he mentioned he did too. Then he suggested that I save everything I draw. I didn't, but he was right.

The reason I think he was right is because it would afford a great insight into my state of mind. It would be like looking into my mind at that time, something great since I have a lot to figure out.

When I was a little kid in Germany, in the first and second grade, I remember a friend named Dominick. I wanted to be just like him. I was already drawing on my own, but so was he, and I thought he was better. We had personal yearbooks which we had to buy on our own (or rather our parents did) and we traded pictures and filled out information about each other so we'd remember everyone. We had to come up with a favorite quote. I took the one Dominick put down: "Always a pencil in my hand."

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