Trying my best to come off as sincere in my drawings & then I feel a little silly afterwards. Partly because I can’t really draw, mostly because it’s kitschy. I guess I’ll grow to like it since I don’t want to rip up my pages in the sketchbook. (Taken with instagram)

One of my favorites I’ve done so far. Based off of the Yoruba tribe proverb: if I am tall it is because I stand on the shoulders of my ancestors. Can’t wait to scan these and fully share all I’ve done with my sketchbook project. (Taken with instagram)

Sketchbook Project

Still working on the 3rd picture for my sketchbook. I don’t think I meant to make it a story but it’s turning out that way slightly. This will be penned in and made a lot better but I’m glad I’m still working on it. This is based on a picture I took so I’m doing my best to make it different from the actual photo. Getting back into drawing has made me realize how little I use my imagination these days and if this project is supposed to be fun, I’m going to have to turn on the light in the ol’ attic.

I used to draw a lot as a kid and thought I’d grow up to be a children’s book illustrator. I made homemade individual Valentine’s Day cards for all 15 students (and the teacher) for my 3rd grade class. My mom let me stay up late so I could finish it. I made a book for my best friend across the street. The Best Friend Book, which I worked on for longer than an hour, was my gift for her. Just drawings of us being best friends, ha! It meant a lot to make something for someone from what I thought was my true talent. And it just made it easier to tell a story.

Then it all became about competition and someone telling me they were better than me at drawing like in middle school. So I stopped. It stopped being fun. And I just left doodles in the margins of my spiral notebooks. It became less natural to me because I was stopping myself from really drawing. It makes me sad to think how much better I could be at drawing today if I kept at it but I guess it’s never too late to start. Honestly, this picture looks a lot like how I used to draw as a little kid so I guess I’m just starting over. And I’m starting over in the best place, when it used to be fun. The process has felt more organic the more I go at it. I want to see what I can do and I can’t wait for the finished product!

So I just signed up for this project that I thought was pretty worthwhile. I was inspired by this zine-makin’ dude who also signed up for it. I’ve enjoyed the work I’ve seen by him and I thought to myself, how does he do it? And it must be that he just gets involved. I keep freaking out over stuff I want to do & maybe the problem is that I’m starting off too big. I’m still going to do those big things, probably sooner than I originally thought. But the little things matter too. So it’s time to start a new project, bring out the camera, get our book club going again and maybe sign up for a class. Let’s see what happens!

(via The Sketchbook Project)

New journal=new challenges. I won’t just write entries but try to draw some as well.

Teenage Medusa is apart of an ongoing project, Observations on Becoming a Woman. First drawing came out OK so I’m sticking to it!

Taken with Hipstamatic

annearchal:

I’m trying to figure out what this popular style of art is called, besides “bad” or “hipster.”

It’s not really folk, because it doesn’t borrow overtly from any specific traditions. It’s not outsider art because despite the prevalence of self-publishing it’s been recognized by the institution (for example, Julia Wertz is nominated for an Eisner Award this year). It’s not quite naïve either, because despite the fact that Kate Beaton and very likely at least some of the others have no formal arts training, they are part of the art world and art practices. I guess you could call it ‘pseudo naïve’ or ‘faux naïve’—although that implies the ability to draw in a naturalistic style (in the manner of Picasso) which I seriously doubt these artists have.*shrug*

I guess I have a sort of ambivalent relationship to this style of comic-ing that has grown significantly in popularity as of late. On the one hand, the form does serve its function—that is to say, telling a story and/or getting laughs. It makes sense for Kate Beaton’s drawing style to be totally unrealistic and break all the laws of perspective and anatomy, because she tells silly jokes. Wertz’ comics also have a sense of humour and tell the story of a young adult situated in that stage of life between the irresponsibility of being a teenager and the maturity and responsibility that comes with being an adult. In this way, the naïve style of her comics make sense. However, because we associate the naïve style with such things as innocence, childhood, madness and humour, it often (for me at least) clashes with the sometimes serious nature of her writing. It also doesn’t help that Wertz’ drawing style looks like it reached our era from a time machine that took off from some teenager’s desk in 1984.

In my opinion, art is most successful when rendering style and content match. I love ancient art, medieval art, indigenous art, folk art and outsider art (all of which tend not to be naturalistic) for this very reason. However, I do scratch my head a bit when I see intelligent and highly educated people (by comparison) who are a part of the institution, who may or may not have studied art at the post-secondary level or on the side, who simply cannot work in a naturalistic mode. This doesn’t relate simply to comics, but to the most erudite gallery art as well. Why? Because I see naturalistic representation as ART 101—the stepping stone for institutionalized artistic expression. You gotta know the rules to break ‘em.

Now I am a fan of the Underground Comix scene that flourished in the 60’s and 70’s, and which persisted into the 1980’s (Robert Crumb, the Hernandez Brothers, Art Spiegelman, among others). However, compared to the new crop of comic artists, the aforementioned draughtsmen are the equivalent of Rembrandt. This raises a red flag for me, because there is an important distinction between adopting a naïve or faux naïve style because it fits your objective, and adopting a naïve style because you don’t have the skills necessary to work in a more appropriate mode—to the detriment of the work. This is the point where charming naïvette begins to cross over into just plain bad (and potentially insulting, to people in the industry that have put in many years of studying and perfecting their art).

What are you thoughts?

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I don’t really have a comment as I think this was an interesting read despite me being mildly obsessed with Kate Beaton. You would think I’d be offended but I liked this. The other artists of Pizza Island I’m not as familiar with, but I enjoy the project of female cartoonists getting together. I think it really helps them to edify one another and supports a comfortable environment.

But as far as Kate Beaton goes, I feel like she’s a historian/comedian. It’s really graphic storytelling, which is what most comics are defined as. She reminds me of Sarah Vowell only she brings her historical humor in snippets and bad doodles rather than a full on book. I happen to enjoy that and also wouldn’t know what to classify her art as. But I love it. I have to say that although I don’t think Kate Beaton is a trained artist, there is something special about how she presents facial expressions even if the rest of her panels are a bit of a mess. I’m not very good at art criticism, never have been. But I appreciate those who can even look at throw-away comics and have something to say. Does this kind of art threaten “real” art? Does it really have to be defined? I’m not sure but I do enjoy it. Well, then I guess I did have a comment.