Perfect storm
So far this millennium has been a strained and sweaty passage. As the moorings are loosened, it seems that any and everything could unravel. A terrorist attack a half a mile and four years away, still feels like it could metastasize and engulf my life. A hurricane a thousand miles away
prompts my mother to buy new insurance while I seek reassurance that my home sits a hundred feet above the ground, ground made of rooted bedrock.
Our government is hopeless and corrupt rather than governing: our religions are a source of division and destruction rather than comfort and moral guidance. It�s tough to express opinions in this climate, tough to make plans, tough to depend on the wisdom of one�s years. And yet, I'm optimistic.
Our times are about keeping it real and perhaps, as our illusions shatter, we�ll be left with a more reasonable set of expectations. Maybe we�ll stop hoping to be lottery millionaires or movie stars or CEOs. Maybe we�ll stop idolizing fabricated celebrity and vicious gossip and impossible perfection. Maybe we�ll realize that true love doesn�t depend on fake breasts.
Nature is brutal and beautiful. One moment the seas are placid, the next they inundate the condos on the shore. We act surprised, oblivious to the millions of years of hurricanes that have shaped our coasts into random, twisted lines. We fantasize that there is a divine plan, an intelligent design behind this terrible judgment. Instead, we must come to see the beauty and the brutality as unpredictable and inevitable. We must relearn our place on the planet and in the universe. It�s time to get a little humble.
Think about Katrina and New Orleans next time you draw. Release the 20th century need to do it right, to make it perfect, to lay down lines just as you�d planned. Instead, take a moment to acknowledge your own imperfections and contemplate how your personal deviations are helping our species to survive. There is no room for perfectly met expectations on this wobbling globe.
The river is ever flowing, breeching its banks, leeching into its bed, never stopping to pose. Everything you draw is mutating as you draw it. Every nanosecond, your pen, your fingers, your sketchbook are all in a flux of atomic migration. We are not grindingly consistent computers, you and I, and we don�t live in Sim City. A twisted, crooked line is the only true line.
Study the gnarled tree, the rotting apple, the ill-kempt hairdo, the defecating dog. Capture the spirit of this imperfection, this constant change, and allow yourself to breathe as you draw. In and out, up and down, tendons bowing, bones creaking, brain cells dying, ink evaporating, paper curling. Ride the act out, and don�t dare think of posterity. If you draw just so you can hang your work on the wall for eternity, your picture frames will exploded in the hot glow of the ever threatening blast. Draw only for exhibition and your gallery will be washed away in the gathering deluge.
Imperfection, misjudgment, failure, these are what you have and don�t dare flee them. Embrace them, cherish them. For chaos is the true way of the world, of your soul, of your destiny of Art with a twisted capital A.
Study your world and draw it. Draw crooked, draw with a stick, draw in the dark, but draw. Draw for now, for today, for this moment. It�s all we have. And, believe me, it�s more than enough.
A record of my exploration into all aspects of drawing, illustrated journaling, creativity, and the inspiring aspects of art. By the author of "Everyday Matters," "The Creative License", and "An Illustrated Life" and other books.
Comments
...been thinking similar thoughts lately....
Posted by: brenda | October 4, 2005 09:00 PM
oh yes, chaos,my old friend...
Posted by: fern | October 4, 2005 09:01 PM
nothing stays comfortable long. more tears have been shed for answered prayers than for those left unanswered. drawing equals ?
nice collage. chaotic.
Posted by: patricia gregory | October 4, 2005 09:17 PM
What an excellent post! And how apt, when everything seems to be unravelling, to characterise this century as one of instability, requiring one to surf on the waves of chaos -- though perhaps most times have seemed like that, to those moving through them. Imagine, the 20th century, with two world wars, innumerable small ones, genocides galore, begins to look bright and orderly in the neat container of the past. (When I saw the collage, before reading your post, I got a big laugh, because I thought it referred to your earlier comments thread, about The Claudine. Thanks for that, too.)
Posted by: Nancy | October 5, 2005 12:05 AM
Who was it who said, "Anything worth doing, is worth doing badly"?
(I'm not even able to quote it well - but that's one of my favorite maxims, whoever said it.)
Posted by: Elizabeth Perry | October 5, 2005 01:15 AM
The only thing missing is the 4 horsemen! When I think about this stuff it IS depressing. This week I realized that every single board member of PBS is a right wing conservative and I'm really scared about this. But drawing is an anchor as long as I continue to draw just what I want exactly as I want to draw it. We'll be calling you the prophet of line soon! Thanks for the post.
Posted by: lindsay | October 5, 2005 08:01 AM
how did you get to be so wise? or so able to articulate thoughts that are brewing in my brain and it sounds like in the brains of others? I feel that my heart is pounding harder and more rapidly these days. There is uncertainty and angst everywhere and it is comforting to read your words and see a possible upside to all this. I have never given much credence to the cult of celebrity (unless it was that of charles kuralt and he certainly didn't have fake breasts eventhough aspects of his life may have been false)but I certainly do try to attain more perfection in my life than is necessary or possible. Just remembering to and to draw for drawings sake is comforting.
anxiously optimistic in buffalo, dana
Posted by: dana.jenkins | October 5, 2005 09:10 AM
You have written the words that I have thought for a long time - only more eloquently, of course. I have thought that the people I knew who were truly happy were not those who had a lot of money, were the most beautiful (in the average American's eyes), or had talents or intelligence far and above the rest. They were the ones who found joy in their daily lives. Contentment in the simple things. One was a dear old man we delivered Meals on Wheels to - he was very elderly, raised chickens and sold eggs. He waited eagerly for our arrival, greeted us cheerfully though we had to shout because he was very deaf. One day he asked us if we'd like to see something beautiful. He led us into his home, took from the refrigerator an orange juice container, pulled a paper towel out of it and opened it carefully in his hand. There was a tiny quail egg - all brown and tan speckled, Nature's "perfection". This lovely man shared this beauty with us and we talked as we went on the rest of our deliveries realizing the things he appreciated and that he truly was a contented man.
Posted by: Ardi | October 5, 2005 09:35 AM
Hear, hear.
Posted by: Anja | October 5, 2005 10:38 AM
To keep drawing life, to keep drawing love, to keep alive our souls no matter all the destruction!
I'm a positive one! just like millions in this world and we are the ones who make it worth it!
nice post!
www.miverdelimon.blogspot.com
www.caracarmina.blogspot.com
Posted by: Pajara Pinta | October 5, 2005 11:16 AM
well said- your words remind me of the great author henry miller, particularly the rosy crucifixion (sexus, plexus, nexus)and his struggle to find himself as an artist and as a man in a very complex world
Posted by: brian dilorenzo | October 5, 2005 12:11 PM
Wow. I've had similar thoughts but you brought them to life through your spectacular collage and posting. Thank you.
Posted by: Lisa | October 5, 2005 04:59 PM
you forgot to mention Avian Influenza (bird flu) I see it being a big player in 2006.
Good thing the world is coming to an end in December of 2012 (the end of the Mayan calander and according to bible code) because your composition is full!
Posted by: Ken McCarthy | October 5, 2005 08:19 PM
CHEESE LOUISE! THAT WAS WELL PUT!!!!!!
;-)
Posted by: Sharon | October 6, 2005 11:21 AM
A friend of mine teaches a life drawing class here in Denver and asked me to be a guest speaker last week. During the discussion I was asked what my philosophy on drawing was and I very ineloquently tried to put into words just what you said in this post. It is amazing and comforting to know that I share this philosophy with someone I have never met (I love the internet)! I would love to read this posting in my next guest lecture with your permission. Thank you for sharing your art with the world I truly have enjoyed it!!
Jared Caruso
Posted by: Jared Caruso | October 6, 2005 12:26 PM
Wonderfully put, Danny, Is the collage your work? Recent? Kewl.
Posted by: Shelley Noble | October 6, 2005 07:47 PM
This post is a gift, Danny. Thank you.
Posted by: Nandita | October 7, 2005 04:06 AM
thanks, I needed that.
:)
Posted by: einars | October 7, 2005 05:05 PM
Great post on my birthday - will have an easy time remembering the date when I want to re-read it in the future.Thanks
Posted by: Francesca | October 8, 2005 06:18 AM
MERCY! I sit here on a cooler, rainy Sunday morning with chills and tears after reading your post! The absolute clarity of vision, words, wisdom rings thru each cell of my aging body, and I thank YOU for concretizing the feelings we've all had recently -- and yet giving us all such HOPE -- no matter what. Blessings, Danny, for the gift of your words, your art, and your soul.
Posted by: Lin | October 9, 2005 10:08 AM
Your sketches are very inspiring.
I wish I was this discipline and passionate.
Keep the ink flowing freind.
Posted by: Delopez | October 21, 2005 11:05 PM