Many years ago, when I was in graduate school for creative writing, a lot of my friends and family were telling me that I am a strong visual artist and should take my work more seriously. I emailed a few gallery owners/managers in Washington, D.C., and as one might expect, only a few replies came in from such passive outreach. The first person replied to tell me that he was not presently accepting any new artists into his fold. Fair enough. The second wrote back to tell me she did not have time to write back. Say wot? From the third, I got something along the lines of “I took a look at some of your work. I can see that you have some talent, but I would suggest you take a basic drawing class.” Ouch.
I was never much of a sketcher, but lately I’ve had more of an attention span for drawing–particularly with conte crayons and charcoal–than painting. Some of the results: