I'm no stranger to failure, so it came as no surprise that two days into
Inktober, despite hours of trying, I wasn't even remotely satisfied
with any of my ink drawings and decided to call it quits. Work takes up
the vast majority of my time and I didn't want to spend the little spare
time I get on making ink drawings I hate and becoming frustrated. It
didn't help that all this coincided with my moving into a new place to
be closer to work.
But out of abject failure comes a little ray of hope. Because of my
hectic schedule the only way I could participate in Inktober was to
sketch on the ferry to and from work and ink when I got home at night.
Although Inktober was no longer a factor, it didn't mean that I had to
stop sketching. In contrast to the frustration I felt when inking, I
found sketching to be somewhat relaxing. In less than two weeks I filled
up the last 2/3rds of my sketchbook and no longer feel totally rusty
when drawing my own stuff.
However, danger always lurks around the corner; sketching on my commutes is how I got RSI years ago, so I have to be careful to not overwork my hands.
Failure. Hope. Danger.
Watching:
Paper Moon by Peter Bogdanovich,
Her by Spike Jonze,
Inside Llewyn Davis by the Coen Brothers
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