Rad Sechrist

I found the following post by Rad to be very encouraging, particularly because even people who are 30 can still become great artists :) You can check out Rad's blog at http://radfordsechrist.blogspot.com/

Now, I wouldn't consider myself a "good" artist yet, just not "bad". But, I've only been not "bad" for a very short time. As little as 3 years ago, I was a horribly bad artist. Now, if I messed with a drawing for long enough, I could make you think I was ok at drawing, but it was extremely frustrating and difficult. If I had to draw the same character in multiple poses, it really showed that I was "bad". And if I had to draw something really fast, it was so embarrassing That I will never show any of those drawings to anyone. 

Some people are naturally talented at drawing. I was not one of those people. So, in 2005 I finally just got fed up with being bad at drawing and started studying. For about 2 years I just copied stuff and took drawing classes. I think I've paused every frame of every Disney movie and copied the drawing. To this day, I still start my day with 1-2 hours of studying. I still make really bad drawings that I don't show to people. I am constantly forgetting the basics and having to relearn them. I have whole days or even weeks where I can't do a single good drawing. But, as a whole, I've come a very long way from where I was and hope still go a lot further.

One of the most inspiring things was seeing that other artist who I consider to be "great" were horrible when they were as old as 25 or even 30. Now again, some people are "great" when they are 15. I've seen it and it can be very discouraging to the rest of us who are not naturally talented. But there is hope. So to all my fellow "Bad" artist, who don't have any talent, don't give up hope. You can make up for it with hard work.

Martha Graham

"There is a vitality, a life force, a quickening that is translated through you into action, and because there is only one of you in all time, this expression is unique. And if you block it, it will never exist through any other medium and be lost. The world will not have it. It is not your business to determine how good it is, nor how valuable it is, nor how it compares with your other expressions. It is your business to keep it yours clearly and directly, to keep the channel open. You do not even have to believe in yourself or your work. You have to keep yourself open and aware directly to the urges that motivate you. Keep the channel open.

"No artist is pleased . . . [There is no] satisfaction whatever at any time. There is only a queer, divine dissatisfaction, a blessed unrest that keeps us marching and makes us more alive than the others."

- Martha Graham to Agnes De Mille, Martha: The Life and Work of Martha Graham

Andrew Loomis

I can think of no field of endeavor so sadly lacking in simple organization of its working principles. Nothing quite so hap- hazard, hit-or-miss, as the whole field of artistic endeavor. I am not a cartoonist, but I choose caricature for the beginner: principally because there is fun in it, and from the start I want him to feel a little of the creative joy he is entitled to. When artists begin to compile and set down their combined experience, give freely and humbly what little they can add, as do the other sciences, then art may have some chance to reestablish itself in the hearts of everyday people even against the mechanical perfection of the camera; even in a period of social adjustment and financial depression. The mental de- pression of our era weighs heavier on our race and future than do our dollars or lack of them. A little joy from the in- side must be welcome to almost anybody. Perhaps my book is a step in that direction.
Yes, folks, I’m tired, but I’m happy. My little job, feeble as it may be, is done. I wait as breathlessly to see how you will like it as I ever waited for the verdict of any art editor or director. I’d give many more sleepless hours just to feel with you that first thrill of having created even if it be mere lines of a pencil. You’ll get to love those little folks you draw, even if they are a bit unwieldy and only a little bit human.
- Andrew Loomis, Fun With a Pencil

Getting Milk

What was I getting again? Oh, there’s Jason. I haven’t seen him in a while. I’d like to stop and chat but I came here to get . . . Milk! I came here to get milk. I came here to get milk, cookies and a pineapple. I’ll just mosey on over to the produce section and check out their selection. Hmm, this pineapple looks good. Mom didn’t really give any specifics. I’ll just put this in my basket and proceed towards the milk. Milk, milk, mil - Are those cocktail weenies? I’ll just stop and have a few, pick up some complimentary napkins. No! I came here to get milk; I can have cocktail weenies after I’m done. On my way to get some mil – Is that free pizza? Ohh, be strong George, be strong. You know, I’m pretty proud of myself for – strawberry shortcakes! Oh, now that’s just not fair. I mean honestly, strawberry shortcakes! I guess just having one wouldn’t hurt, and besides I deserve something for saying no to those other culinary temptations. Mmm, this is so good; I could have another one. No, I’ve sat down long enough, I’ll just pick up some complimentary napkins and than I need to continue on. I’ve had my strawberry shortcakes; nothing can stop me now. Free gummy worms? Nope, keep walking. Ice cream floats? Nope, just a few more steps . . . and ah! I’ve got the milk. I’m not sure how good of a story this will be for class. It seems like it’s been pretty uneventful. Ah well, now to just place the milk in my basket next to the pineapple and see what’s next. Let’s see, oh good. Cookies!

George pulled the list from his pocket and began the process of deciphering his handwriting. Let’s see, oh good! Cookies! George’s face lit up as he thought about the selection of cookies before him. He began drooling but caught himself, it’s a good thing I took some extra napkins. Boy it’s cold in this section.
George wiped his mouth, put the napkins back in his pocket and wondered, why are my pockets wet? George didn’t give much thought to his cold pockets, he reasoned, It’s probably just the condensation from the milk . . . which does feel unusually light. George was unaware that his milk was in fact leaking all over his pants, his mother’s pineapple and the newly cleaned grocery store floor. I think I’ll get the sugar cookies. The milk had now formed puddles around George’s feet. I really like sugar cookies. The milk slowly made it’s way through the aisle, presenting threats to customer’s stability as it seeped and flowed. The milk had already claimed one victim. Wow, that must have hurt. People really should watch where they’re goiiiiing! George stepped out into the milk and slipped. Where did all this milk come from? George thought. Oh No! It’s my milk! The mystery of George’s wet pockets, the surprising lightness of his milk, it all became clear as George counted one more victim in this accident; his cookies. Noooooo! George cried. The tears poured like milk from an open container.
“No use crying over spilled milk.” A fellow customer commented. George did not appreciate the advice. 
“It’s not the milk I’m crying over you idiot. It’s my cookies.”
“That’s how the cookie crumbles.” The customer said with a grin on his face. George thought, how do these people find me? Do I have a sign on my back that says talk to me I care what you think? That’s it. I’m just going to get up. Purchase my mother’s pineapple and go home. My pineapple’s all right isn’t it. Don’t tell me something happened to the pineapple?
“Excuse me, but is this your pineapple? There are pieces scattered all over the floor. You might want to pick them up.”
George was too tired to yell, cry or display any sort of emotion. He began walking over to the pineapple pieces picking them up one by one. All George could do at the moment was sigh.