In my late teens, I had an incredibly dramatic change of talent, one day, all of a sudden, unexpectedly.
And this was my first and last attempt at drawing faces, in my late teens before I gave up.
It was for an assignment, and I was mortified.
But then i had this magazine clipping that I was somehow absolutely attached to, but no idea what the heck to do with it.
So I decided just to draw it.
I stared at every detail, I ignored every negative thought, and I paid attention to what I loved about it.
And suddenly I had drawn something that wasn't mortifying.
This seemed like a complete fluke.
But I kept drawing.
That horrible feeling of dread, those thoughts in my head that said I couldn't do it lost a hell of a lot of power.
I tried another magazine clipping.
It came out better and way worse!
So I tried first doing and imprint trace of the outlines to know where things went.
Way better, but I felt very dishonest.
My Art teacher (who was not a nice person) insisted that after seeing the only 4 portraits I'd ever done in my life, drawing off of images was way to easy, and a waste of time. She didn't want to see anymore.
She demanded I draw from real life.
This Terrified me but I found a few classmates who did want me to draw them and I started trying.
Even when it started very uncomfortable rumors after having a super popular guy over to my house to sit in the worst awkward silence possible, for and eternity, while I sketched my terrified heart out.
My bored-in-class doodles turned into a repetitive obsession: always an eye, which then needed at partner... which evolved into a face.
On vacation I found my niece out on the balcony in the middle of the night, and blew my own mind that I was able to capture what I saw.
But I always went back to portraits.
I love to draw portraits the most.
There is something about the eyes.
the nose, mouth, face naturally follow.
