Monday, October 23, 2006

Zorro with a...Pen

A pen is a potential weapon - how much paper have I trashed because the rip was not intended, the gesture too hard or too soft. I've dedicated my efforts to finding that subtle balance between the delicate surface of paper and the sharp point of the pen - a hairline off can render a potential masterpiece non-existent. The rip that appears in my drawings is a result of the increased dynacism in my work. It all started from the days in the factory when I made that simple motion to personalize my workspace on the assembly line - with a drawing board. In those seconds between running the next widget on the line, I developed my drawing style. The rip appeared out of the adaptation of my drawing style to the demands of the fast-paced setting of the factory. I was so frustrated living on the street, unable to afford a studio, and only enough money to buy the bare necessities. Sometimes when I couldn't afford paper, I drew on the backs of old factory invoices. The whole drama of all these years was put to paper. Mythological contents, archetypes, a running commentary on coffee stained pictorals of my journey. It's a gradual unfolding of something missing in today's quick fix "ascent" to success - namely, STORY, something that goes the distance where STORY has a chance to unfold, where song reaches climaxes, pianissimos, arpeggios, and rears its beautiful head in defiance of the existing situation, invincibly defending the turf where dreams are made, where dragons are defeated, where light is found.

Sunday, October 22, 2006

Drawing My Ship In


It's Sunday, 10-22-06, and I just made the deadline to the Third International Drawing Competition in Poland. While I have reservations about sending original drawings anywhere, it is par for the course to get your work out there to be seen. Discussed. Juried. Awarded. And, inevitably rejected. The prospectus has even stated that the winners are nearly all native to the country supporting the competition. But, it scares me not. I believe in my work and at this point it has become ferocious. This pen is a sword. And this vast world of surfaces is the battlefield. I must defeat my own mediocricy and ascend. I must develope my own criticism and most of all, my own voice. Unfolding daily, a dream carpet rolls up to your next step. That next step may be the one that elevates you out of the seemingly, stagnated routine.