The problem is, drawing is a highly introverted and antisocial activity, so I stopped for a while because it seemed like other people were more important than my own needs. However, at Duke I realized that there is a generally higher appreciation of the arts in all of the varieties. Because of this, I resumed activity and actively treated drawing like a skill to be improved and less like a personal catharsis and mental emptying. Jumping in with both feet made it so I could pursue my hobby more devotedly, and even let me get good enough to start scribbling cool looking things all over the walls of my apartment for all to enjoy, in a way that's much less individualistic and introverted. This also led me to start exploring the canvas-like qualities of buildings (aka graffiti) to better understand the practice of social art. And so I must thank Professor Fick for helping me get back on my feet, so to speak, and hopefully learn to run.
Monday, December 12, 2011
Drawing is one of those things that I've just always done. I did it before I could even say the word. My parents never told me to do it, and I never really took a class until now. For me, it satisfies an inner need, not necessarily for other people to enjoy. The thing is, I get an idea in my head and it stays there in the realm of fantasy. So instead of letting it rot up there, I have to put it down on paper to solidify it in the real world. It's a fundamental need to transform the blank emptiness of a piece of paper into a solid and clear expression of idea. This way, my idea can always remain, crisp and clear rather than as a collection of hopes and possibilities in my cranial cavity, where it is subject to change and outright forgetfulness. It was only until other people started positively commenting on my work that I started to understand that this skill could be useful for various aspects of life.