Sketchbooks and Stick Figures
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We’ve all experienced hundreds of
getting-to-know-you conversations. We all know the questions you’re supposed to
ask. What’s your name? Where are you from? And for me and most of my peers,
this next one is inescapable:
What’s your major?
Illustration, I answer.
Oh, Illustration, they say. Is that,
like, art?
Yes, I confirm, Illustration is art.
Wow, they say. I can’t even draw a
stick figure. You must be really talented.
After participating in variations of
this conversation hundreds of times, it’s really got me thinking. What do they
mean by that last comment—“You must be really talented”? Sometimes it seems
like an explanation, or even an excuse, for being good at something.
I do believe that there is such a thing
as talent—raw natural ability in a certain area. What is strange to me about
the comment “You must be really talented” is that, in the end, I don’t feel
that talent has very much to do with my success as an artist. Talent, or raw
natural ability, is just that—raw, unrefined, and untried. Even a person that
apparently doesn’t have talent can excel beyond someone who does—if they
invest the required time and effort.
So, you can’t even draw a stick figure.
This doesn’t prove that you’re not talented and could never do “good” art. It
simply shows that you haven’t spent much time drawing stick figures—yet. You
could, though. And you could get really good at it, given enough time. This is
why artists carry sketchbooks.
I first learned the value of
sketchbooks from my high school art teacher. Every week she would collect our
sketchbooks, not to critique them, but to make sure that we were drawing,
observing, and recording ideas constantly. “You don’t have to show your
sketchbook to anyone if you don’t want to,” she’d say. “This is where you mess
up and make mistakes. It’s where you think. It’s where you learn. It’s not to
show off how talented you are to anyone else.” Through sketchbooking I learned
how much time and effort is required to produce good art. The merely talented
who aren’t constantly sketching get left by the wayside. Artists succeed
because, even when they’re not in front of a canvas with brushes in hand, the
have a sketchbook that they carry everywhere.
Believing in effort over talent is
extremely liberating—just think about it. I really can do, and be, and
accomplish anything I want, provided that I am willing to put in enough time
and effort. And so can you. Your hopes of what you want do and be and
accomplish can be realized, if you are ready to do what it takes. Try it—invest
a little time and effort. I believe in you.
