23 September 2008

On hearing the drawing through the pimply monologues.

So all this blogging will not regain momentum until i get this BLOODY.BOOK finished. But eine moment, bitte, a moment of respite. Partially in celebration of the fact that after four and a half hours today of Tearing My Hair out, washing and re-washing my dishes, assaulting friends and colleagues with countless useless emails (yeah, sorry about that), negotiating my way through some funny german podcasts (more on that to come), and setting up strange dioramas with my comforter and travel trunk to recreate a dress climbing out of open luggage, i finally sat. I resigned myself to the blank page. The fucker. This last page, last drawing, is in fact the first (ironically) page of Teatime part 2 and it has been staring, nay, sniggering at me for weeks. WEEKS. Today is my second go at it, a new piece of illustration board, as I finally had to concede that my first final was unclear rubbish.

Anyhow. I got into it. Somehow I did. Four hours later, and now what stares at me is an optimistic work-in-progress, rather sensible, relatively competent rendering, and (thanking the ten tiny toes of Christ) NOT in need of being completely erased and redone over and over and OVER again.
I am writing all this useless information, dear reader(s) so you will... nay, not feel my pain, as part of the pain of having a whimsical and useless trade like illustration is that noone else can feel your pain. There is no help to be garnered. No colleague who can say, "oh, just move that widget a bit to the right" and suddenly the drawing/story is back up and functioning.
I am writing this so that if ever in the universe more than a dozen or so people see these little books of mine, instead of uttering the usual "you are so lucky to be an artist", or "what FUN it must be", you will know, or have some indication, anyhow, that it is not only as frustrating as any other job on earth, but it is as unsure of itself (and hence as awkward and painful) as a pimply teenage virgin on a first date who has not realized yet that a world exists beyond his own, and one must therefore engage in Conversation, not monologues.
The above is a good analogy, in fact, 'coz, as with most things on earth, everything goes better when you listen to the task at hand. In this case the drawing. Flakey as it may sound, the drawing has more important things to say than I ever do, and were I to shut up for a minute, I might save myself alot of time and frustration. Just let it have it's way, already. It has my best interests at heart.
Alright. Enough whinging. Onwards to lighter bloggy topics. Woop!

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