Monday, September 28, 2015

Praise Venus!

Oh man, figure drawing is so much fun!

I've never had the chance to draw anyone in the nude, which is a shame. But rarely do I draw from reference anyway. Which of course is a mistake, as I've written before. I can only imagine it would be even more fun with a live model.

Is it because I get to stare at a naked person? Probably. I mean, it's naive to claim otherwise. In reality, sex is the sole human motivator, and Venus is our muse. Well, not sex in itself, but rather procreation.

I'll explain. There exists a theory which states that everything an individual does can be linked to the primal urge of reproduction. To make, and raise, babies. It's in everything we do.

Why do we build careers? Why do we develop skills? Why do we hit the gym? Why do we bother organize our days? What is it that makes us want money?

To make ourselves more competitive in the market of partners. To entice a strong mate, to bear or seed strong children. To build a foundation for securing a future for those children. We do these things, because we think some skills are more valuable than others in impressing a partner. Because we think playing the guitar, or ukulele, or being good at drawing, will impress someone. A partner. How? Well. Times change. Hunting isn't how we make our living anymore.

We do good things, because we believe that other's will help us in turn, when we need it. We might even treat goodness itself as a competition. For the final goal, of course, of passing on our genes.

Even our fear of death is, ironically, linked to the creation of new life. Surviving is really only important because it's required. For anything. And everything IS for the sake of fucking. For children. It makes evolutionary sense to be deathly afraid of what comes after.

It's really interesting, and frankly, quite frigthening. It's a terrible thought that humans would be so simple. It's a truth that isn't easy to accept - It implies the falsehood of true passion, goodness. Really, it eliminates everything that separates us from the rest of the animal kingdom. It's not something that you'd want to believe in. But it's definitely in the way humans are wired.

Or, well, that's the theory. It's notoriously difficult to dispute, but I invite anyone and everyone to do so in the comment section!

Wednesday, September 23, 2015



I edited clouds into the background. Because hey, why not?

I like to challenge myself. In a way. It excites me.

I really hate being forced to do something I'm bad at. I mean, we all do. It sucks. You just feel bad because, well, you're bad. This is all completely normal and all, you're supposed to feel good about being great or bad about being bad. That's how humans work. But why?

You do it so that one day, you can be good at something. Because talent is just the sexiest thing. In my last entry I wrote about what it means or doesn't mean to be beautiful, and this is it. Being impressively good at something is massively appealing. It's why the guy with the guitar gets all the ladies.

I've had all sorts of projects, because I like to get better at things.

This blog is a project. It's supposed to make me better at drawing and writing. It has also provided me with a platform on which to grow as a person.

My ukulele project is still a thing. I'm doing it and I'm slowly getting better. It doesn't really matter if I have a talent for it i.e. if progress in music comes easy, as long as I have enough time on my hands to one day get good at it anyway.

I draw. It's an eternal project. What more is there to say?

And I've recently joined a dance group. Because the thought of being good enough at dancing to really impress someone makes me really motivated to do that and get there. Maybe one day someone will admire me the way I've admired some other dancer. That's what it's about.

I won't ever be that guitar guy, but might one day get to be that uke-guy. Maybe people will miss the point, possibly they'll think ukuleles are a joke instrument. But maybe someone will recognize that I put in the work and dedicated myself to learn something new.

Perhaps some day, someone will read this blog, watch what I draw, with the same wonder and awe as I back when I used to watch painting timelapses on youtube.

Tuesday, September 15, 2015

Who's beautiful?

Don't answer that. Because it's an evil question.

See, having ideals and preferences when it comes to beauty is not a bad thing. You can like this or that, just whatever you think is pretty in a partner or person. It's all okay. Your tastes can be impossibly niché or encompass every last one of us, it doesn't really matter. Humans come in all forms and shapes, and everyone is beautiful to someone. At least that's the theory.

The problem arises when we start discussing beauty. When we work out amongst ourselves, what is physically most desired. I.e. when we start projecting our ideals, and the ideals we've learned from others, into for example the media, or people in our circles. When we idealize so much, collectively, that someone becomes beautiful to everyone. Thus, our societal ideals in beauty are born, and everyone is worse off.

History shows, ideals change, hence they're not absolute. Anyone can be, and therefore is, beautiful.

The question of what, or who, is beautiful is evil because the answer doesn't lead to any sort of positive thinking. It can lead to superficial pride, critical self-consciousness, and jealousy. Obviously, if an answer has to be given, the best one would be "everyone".

This problem of self-consciousness is only exacerbated by the fact that beauty is so idealized in the first place. The fact that we hold physical attractiveness so important. Every day, people feel overwhelmingly bad about how they don't seem to fit into the parameters that the media describes as beautiful. And in the end, it means so little. 

This was today's rant. It was born on a hungry stomach, but it makes a good case. Sure, you were committing no crime when you tweeted about Ruby Rose being the sexiest person alive, just like everyone else on the internet tweeted last June. But you should also keep in mind that every day people loathe, hate, and harm themselves, because not everyone can look like Ruby Rose.

Did I even think that chick from Orange is the new Black was good looking before every other article on the webs told me so? I knew she was beautiful before I had even seen a picture of her. How plastic is a brain, and how malleable are our ideals? It's a valid question, and it's not easily answered.

Sunday, September 6, 2015

The conditions for progress

Alright! Here it is! Another entry, at what feels like long last! With art! And I'm going to talk about it! Yes, exclamation mark! Let's dive into it.

The most important aspect of being an artist is the strength of his or her criticism. Towards everything, as art is only truly meaningful in commentary to a real life context, but chiefly towards itself. An artist can only evolve if he or she is critical enough of her own work. In order to improve, the first thing you need to do is identify the problems. This holds true both in the case of a specific piece of art, and in development over time. You can't become content, ever.

It's a harsh reality, that you can't get better if you're content with where you are. They say artists are depressing people, because they can never get good enough. Which is untrue, artists just can't allow themselves to become comfortable. And it's not just us pencileers, the same conditions for further achievement apply to musicians, and really, to anyone, anywhere. Once you start believing that what you're doing is good enough, that's when you stop moving.

I sent a series of pictures of this drawing to my friends while it was still work in progress, along with some commentary on what I thought was going well and what was going poorly. It must have seemed like I wasn't somehow proud enough of what I was doing, listing the faults and flaws in my drawing, but that's not how I saw it. You can be proud, of where you are and where you're going, but you can't think that it's good enough.

If I thought now that I had drawn the best drawing I ever will, then I would never pick up the pen again. You always need to be your own biggest critic. It doesn't matter where you are, what matters is that you're moving forward. And to do that, you need to see what's lacking, and what's bad.

This is a portrait of The Hound from HBO:s Game of Thrones, drawn from reference. But it doesn't look enough like him.