On Drawing 11/08/2006

 

 

"A No. 2 pencil and a sheet of loose-leaf paper have a special place for me because this is where my interest in art truly began. I could start with almost nothing and create something from these common materials. My drawings and sketch work will always be deeply rooted in this idea of commonality--something simple, inexpensive, everyday. To me, application, concept, and perspective far outweigh the cost or quality of the material used.

  

Beginning in 1993, I started filling journals of all sizes--35 thus far--with my drawings. The journals have always been and continue to be integral to my other art work. When I’m in periods of creative high points, I work on several different journals simultaneously, always considering the composition and tone of the work I intend to draw. I find it extremely liberating to scribble, doodle, and experiment in one journal and then turn around and create an entry with few erasures and more precision in another. Lately, however, I've noticed that I am using my journals more for documenting the chronological evolution of my artistic expression.

 

To me drawing is medicine. Drawing helps me release pent-up worries and emotions during times of high stress and confusion as it helps me put a face on the stressors I encounter. But other times, my drawing process is much more calculated. For example, an interesting statement from a novel or some words of wisdom from a friend might inspire me to attempt to interpret their impact in a drawing. If a concept or a feeling is important to me or becomes vital to my character, I have no qualms about repeatedly trying to express this in my work. For a long time, I avoided any sort of calculation when I prepared to sketch; instead, I just tried to push myself and my line further into unexplainable territories, allowing me the luxury of studying other aspects of the process, for example the way a dull versus a sharp pencil slides across paper. In fact, I often preferred to lose my sense of reality in these nuances rather than be overly conceptual. 

 

At an early age I was unfortunate, but also in retrospect, fortunate, to be diagnosed with Ankylosing Spondylitis (AS), a chronic disease. AS is a form of arthritis that affects mainly the spine and neck. So, whether I like it or not, in many ways AS defines me as a person and an artist, forcing me to look inward rather than outward for truth and honesty in my life. For a long time, I resisted using my disease as an excuse or ploy for my artistic expression but now realize it’s impossible to ignore or hide. Before I discovered the medicinal qualities of sketching and drawing, I looked for other ways to express my uniqueness. Now, I always want my work to reflect what is constantly occurring within me, both physically and emotionally, rather than the person others perceive me to be. I hope that as I acknowledge my disease, my work can serve as a reminder that people should embrace all differences and cultures.

 

Taken in their entirety, I have noticed that my collection of journals reflects different levels of personal realization and development. Over time, my drawings have become very clean and simple with very little rendering or shading. Many drawings are framed on the page, shaping and revealing my thoughts on composition, and others, for example, contain notes about color schemes. Thus, my journals serve as a rich resource for form, composition, and color—the keys to my future paintings."