Learning how to scribble, really scribble, cannot be underrated. I'm not talking sketching here, I'm talking scribbling. There is a difference. It's taken me a lifetime to figure it out.
An art teacher in high school once made a concerted, serious effort trying to get me to trust scribbling, but I just couldn't let go enough to do it. I couldn't trust scribbling at all. I thought it was the mark of a sloppy, lazy, piss-poor artist. I was operating under the misconception that a really good artist can produce incredibly detailed, ready for the public artwork without having to do any preliminary studies at all - I was under the impression that the really good, talented artists just pick up a pen or pencil and wham!, Great drawings flow right out.
I taught myself to draw figures by copying the artist who illustrated my favorite comic books. I assumed when I looked at the little drawings on the pages in my hands that that was how they came out of the artist's pencils, - perfectly posed and proportioned, expertly fitted into small panels on a 6.5" X 10" page.
It didn't help that Neal Adams, an amazing talent, was my favorite artist, and it really didn't help that I didn't understand just how much work Neal Adams put into the production of his art.
It also didn't help that I attended high school with Stanley Pulu, probably one of the best artist I have ever personally known. When he was 16, 17, he was capable of producing sketches that put most finished pieces by other artists to shame. I wanted to be able to do that, too.
Even when I learned that the original art in comic books was nearly twice up (measuring approx. 11" X 17" ), I still thought the drawings were done precisely, without error or correction.
I wasn't alone in this belief. I had plenty of friends and acquaintances who attended the S.D. cons in the '70's who also had formed this idea. I have since learned that even the spectacular Franklin Booth, master of the pen and ink illustration, had perfected his skill because he thought that the pictures he meticulously copied out of the magazines of the day were drawings, not knowing that the thousands of lines that produced the dramatic variations in shading and added so much depth to the illustrations were actually created by engraved plates.
Unlike Booth though, I did not possess the discipline to spend thousands of hours carefully replicating the individual drawings I saw in the comic books (I didn't have much more in the way of illustrations to copy, btw - only the drawings in comic books).
Oh, I had the desire to draw, I just didn't have the focus, discipline, and dedication to learn. I also was operating under the misconception that I should "just" be able to draw if I was a real artist.
It was a crippling belief to hold, stultifying in fact.
The idea that a finished page was the result of multiple thumbnails and rough drafts was alien to me. Out of frustration and an ego-driven desire to look like I was a good artist I took to using an overhead projector to enlarge pictures onto paper, then I would simply add shading and more detail where it was needed.
That taught me about the need for contrast (esp. in black and white illos), and some other finishing skills, but it really did not help with my artistic development.
Over the past few years, I have finally learned how to let go and trust scribbling. Scribbling is not just a great tool and technique for creating art, it is also a pure joy. I'm a scribbling fool these days.
Scribbling has freed me of the notion that if I'm going to attempt to draw, I have to scrupulously sketch out every little detail and apply appropriate shading, etc., even if all I want to do is just practice drawing hands.
it's somewhat funny, actually. I've filled a couple of sketchbooks in the last two years with tons of scribbles, and it's helped me produce the best finished artwork I've ever done.
For some this may seem like a very, very small molehill being made into Mt. Everest, but I'm trying to convey a weird truth here - I had to learn how to scribble, and it's been a revelation to be able to do so.
Picking up a pen, pencil, or marker, and just scribbling all over a piece of paper may be as rudimentary a skill as one can possibly posses, but for me it's been an eye-opening experience.
I'm hoping this is a sign that I'm one of those late bloomer types and I haven't hit my stride yet.
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