Some of the strangest, unusual people are coming forward in my new journal. This one inspired from a quote from Michelangelo to his apprentice:
"Draw Anthony. Draw, Anthony, draw and don't waste time."
I'm a Drawer. Drawing relaxes me. Quiets my mind. Stills my soul. Takes me away. Brings me home. It is my resting place. A meditation. A prayer.
Did I mention that drawing really matters to me?
I gain a little confidence in these sketches and then try to draw a portrait of a real person, my oldest grandson.
This is Gus. Except it's not quite Gus. There is something definitely missing and wrong but for the life of me, I can't fix it. I caught something of him, but there is something still very elusive just beyond my seeing eye.
And then I lose my confidence- put my book down. Throw my pencil. Walk away. Discouraged.
Until I look up a portrait I tried to draw of Gus in a earlier journal (two years ago).
And I realize, my drawing everyday does matter . My failures and attempts are bringing me closer to that elusive dream and higher goal of good art, and my eye is getting finely tuned and my hand is getting more skilled. It's right there in the old journal page. Thank you sweet portrait. I love you too, even though you're raw and basic and young and awkward.
So I tell myself again.
Don't give up. Keep drawing. Draw and don't waste time.