When I was a sophomore at the University of Vermont, I took a drawing class. It was quite eye-opening. I had been one of the, "best artists to ever attend Springfield High School," according to my art teacher, yet I knew my skills were limited to reproductions of representations of images of life and, not beautiful depictions of what life and human existence truly are. I knew.
I come from a family of artists-- talented artists. My mother was remarkable. I don't know if she can still create, but her pastel drawings and her paintings from her youth still take people aback. It was natural to her. My older sister is an art teacher now. My brother is still creative, has his own art studio for awhile... My little sister, she did beautiful work. Out of the five of us, I was the least artistic. Considering their level of talent, even being in their league was still pretty impressive to my old SHS art teacher.
Entering this college drawing class, I knew my limitations. Yet, taking that college-level drawing class, and seeing real life in front of me, made my mind and hands freeze up. I couldn't see the blood and tissue and life of the human body, I saw shapes. I just saw shapes. I knew there was more than I could do. I still know I could create remarkable depictions of the world if I opened my mind.
When it came time for our final exam for the class, we were given the opportunity to create whatever drawing-type project we wanted, as long as it represented us. It was not expected to be one nice drawing: It was a project or portfolio of new work. Thought and imagination had to go into it.
(I want to state, for the record, that I might have invented "Willow People" figurines, which, for the record, freak me out. Faceless people are just scary. A family member tried to "start [our] collection" of Willow People when I was pregnant, and I kept packing them away, still in their boxes, thinking, "Who the hell would want faceless little people displayed in their home?" The answer should be no one).
Anyway, I based my final art project on the famous photography book, "The Family of Man," created by
Edward Steichen, which depicted humanity is all stages of existence. "The concept was not to focus on any individual photograph or artistic style but to immerse its viewers in the diverse but shared existence of mankind. The original collection hung from ceilings and had been mounted to the varying structures at various arts museum. Birth, death, and everything in between was the core subjects of these photographs." (citation).
Yet, in thinking of my own life and existence at that place and time, I also designed it around the quotation: "A Circle of Love is the Power of the Family." All the drawings existed in a round hatbox which I had decorated with images of my life. There were real life, realistic, and personal drawings of my family set between the paintings you will see below. Those are missing. I don't know where they went. The whole thing I created is kind of weird--there are faceless people, after all--yet the images I created and quotes I chose to feature marked what I held most important in my life at that moment in time, and what I wanted for my future. My life isn't anything like some of those paintings. Not anymore. Not right now.
...I absolutely have nightmares about faceless Willow People, yet these paintings were my past present and future. They were my 19 year old dream.
I come from a family of artists-- talented artists. My mother was remarkable. I don't know if she can still create, but her pastel drawings and her paintings from her youth still take people aback. It was natural to her. My older sister is an art teacher now. My brother is still creative, has his own art studio for awhile... My little sister, she did beautiful work. Out of the five of us, I was the least artistic. Considering their level of talent, even being in their league was still pretty impressive to my old SHS art teacher.
Entering this college drawing class, I knew my limitations. Yet, taking that college-level drawing class, and seeing real life in front of me, made my mind and hands freeze up. I couldn't see the blood and tissue and life of the human body, I saw shapes. I just saw shapes. I knew there was more than I could do. I still know I could create remarkable depictions of the world if I opened my mind.
When it came time for our final exam for the class, we were given the opportunity to create whatever drawing-type project we wanted, as long as it represented us. It was not expected to be one nice drawing: It was a project or portfolio of new work. Thought and imagination had to go into it.
(I want to state, for the record, that I might have invented "Willow People" figurines, which, for the record, freak me out. Faceless people are just scary. A family member tried to "start [our] collection" of Willow People when I was pregnant, and I kept packing them away, still in their boxes, thinking, "Who the hell would want faceless little people displayed in their home?" The answer should be no one).
Edward Steichen, which depicted humanity is all stages of existence. "The concept was not to focus on any individual photograph or artistic style but to immerse its viewers in the diverse but shared existence of mankind. The original collection hung from ceilings and had been mounted to the varying structures at various arts museum. Birth, death, and everything in between was the core subjects of these photographs." (citation).
Yet, in thinking of my own life and existence at that place and time, I also designed it around the quotation: "A Circle of Love is the Power of the Family." All the drawings existed in a round hatbox which I had decorated with images of my life. There were real life, realistic, and personal drawings of my family set between the paintings you will see below. Those are missing. I don't know where they went. The whole thing I created is kind of weird--there are faceless people, after all--yet the images I created and quotes I chose to feature marked what I held most important in my life at that moment in time, and what I wanted for my future. My life isn't anything like some of those paintings. Not anymore. Not right now. ...I absolutely have nightmares about faceless Willow People, yet these paintings were my past present and future. They were my 19 year old dream.
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