|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Wed Nov 30, 2005 9:25 am
Mark Brooks in an interview MB: You know, my favorite page I've ever done -- it's an older one too, which is kind of funny -- it's from Marvel Age Spider-Man, and it's in the Dr. Doom issue. I believe it was Issue #4. I'm pretty sure. It's the very first page in the comic, of Spider-Man swinging over the city. It's from the view of a pedestrian, so you're kind of standing on the sidewalk looking up if he was swinging above you about 20 feet. And it's got people kind of standing around and gawking at him and taping him and just some buildings and things. And just the way the page turned out, it just blew my mind. It was one of those things where, it's one of the only times I've looked at my work and been proud of it. Normally, I hate everything I do. NRAMA: Why is that? Readers go nuts over artwork, but artists talk about everything that's wrong with the work. They hate looking at their own stuff. MB: I call it the artist's curse. I've never met a single artist that likes everything they do. It's automatic. I may like it right after I finish drawing it. But give me a good five or 10 minutes and I'll start hating it. So I was just wondering if anyone else felt like this at all. For the longest time I've just been hating everything that comes off the end of my pencil. I'll go through a few pages a day in my sketchbook just trying to get one look or pose down to my liking or just stop in the middle of a drawing and just move on to something different (which I also tend to give up on till I find some easy pose I can do...Which is why most of my drawings I post online tend to be the same basic pose... sweatdrop ) I guess what I'm wondering is how often does this "curse" affect you? and what do you do to get around it?
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Dec 01, 2005 10:39 am
It usually takes me a lot longer than ten minutes to hate something I've drawn unless it's pretty damn bad. I'm not a big fan of Brooks' stuff but I keep up with what he posts on DA and he does good work. The way that I know something of mine is exceptional is if I can still look at it a month later and like it as much as when I drew it, because alot of times I really like what I've completed at first. I don't think it's something that you need to get around unless it hinders you from putting together a portfolio. In a way it makes sure that you'll continue to improve.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Doctor Harleen Quinzell Crew
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Dec 01, 2005 2:29 pm
I go through that alot. Ut's actually been a good tool for me.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Dec 01, 2005 11:37 pm
I don't know how the rest of the writers feel, but I know that I seldom like my work. So perhaps it isn't just artists like "illustrators" but artists used to describe everyone in creative fields.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Aidan Glissane Vice Captain
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Doctor Harleen Quinzell Crew
|
Posted: Fri Dec 02, 2005 12:25 am
I rarely have that problem with my writing, but then I'm a far better writer than I am artist.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Dec 02, 2005 3:31 am
"In my head there's brilliance and on the page it all turns to crap."
ditto
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Dec 02, 2005 11:55 pm
I don't hate everything I do. There are some things that I am desperately proud of, that I want to scream to the heavens about how wonderful it is and show the world. This, of course, is the stuff that no one but me ever sees because I don't want anyone to tear it down. I don't want anyone to say anything that might make me start hating it. As of this moment there are two such pieces. These are often the ones that a nagging inspiration hit me at 1 in the morning and I had to draw, had to, like some inborn will that wasn't my own gripping me and screaming to get the paper out. These are often the most satisfying drawings to make because I am in the clutches of pure, undilluted and intensely aggresive drive. The perfect will to move forward at all cost.
I once locked my room mate out of the building so that she couldn't screw up my rythm. It was 12 degrees outside and she was not happy. I don't care, her boyfriend ate all my bread.
Invariably, a year or so down the line, I will look at these drawings and cringe, wondering why I was so proud of them. Nevertheless, the first drawing I made of Michel head on is still framed and still sitting on my wall, right next to the neckless Tomb Raider with really great legs.
As for everything else.
Give it a day. There are times when a single line on paper will cause a violent gut reaction. These are the days when I have to force myself to draw because everything, even handwritting, looks like so much worthless scribbling in my eyes. I can't get into a groove. I'll got for a week like that sometimes, a month. It's hard to fathom how or why it happens (although it is the reason I go through dibilitating dry periods where my teachers look at me and start swearing: "********! I KNOW you can draw! You've got ******** GREAT design sense. Look at these pages, what the ******** happened?!" And inwardly I'll shudder and the dry periods lasts an extra day at least. I'm a tempermental artist, my ego needs to be left alone, not torn down OR fed in public. I can't draw when anyone is looking at me, honest truth that).
There are other days when this is less, and I'll get onto bristol and the drawings will start but not finish. I went through 6 poster drawings in one day once, none finished. I thought the sketch looked better. Every extra line, a detraction. Every new angle, an affront. Only when I came back a week later could I bear to look at it (often to cringe and fix an anatomical issue) and finish the job.
And even then, I'll never "love" the drawing. A mild apathy is the usual. Most of my work I feel mearly apathetic too unless somewhere that sense of drive invaded me. Otherwise it feels like I'm hunting the drive and the drive is standing off to the side, laughing at my Joker sketch while I try to think to myself "it's ok, you never draw him anyway, so don't worry if it sucks."
It amazes me to this day that people compliment my work in general. I don't see what they see. They see art, and every time on almost every thing, all I see is, "almost, but no, not yet."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Dec 03, 2005 4:15 am
Shut up Cel, your drawing is fantastic and your inking is to die for. As a writer, I'm picky about the artists that I want to work with, but I would definately want to work with you for covers, simply because I haven't seen any sequentials from you yet. Hopefully that PM I sent you earlier will go towards rectifying that.
I have three of those pieces right now actually, the kind that nobody sees. One has stayed penciled and sat in the darkness, one is the drawing of Spider doing the Batusi that I got the guts to post, and the third is just blue pencil in my sketchbook right now, but once it's inked I'm definately going to show it because I feel that I have to offer these drawings up to see if my instincts are correct.
The annoying thing about drawing with other people around is that we just got new carpets in my house so I'm not allowed to ink anywhere but at the end of the kitchen table where it's hardwood flooring, so I ended up having to draw and ink Spider with my mother talking at me. God only knows how I managed it, but I did. I think that's the sort of thing that you just sort of have to confront head on, but then we all have our own artistic processes.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Doctor Harleen Quinzell Crew
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
