Drawings 14

Drawings 15

Drawings 13

Drawings 11

Drawings 12

drawings 10

drawings 9

drawings 8

drawings 7

drawings 6

drawings 5

drawings 4

Drawings 3

Drawings 2

China marker on newsprint. Copied from a book.

Even though the proportions are off and the drawings are pretty basic, I've notice my confidence in line has grown a lot. Still a long ways to go, though. Drawing is both a delight and a bother. 

Figure drawing for illustrators

I'm no illustrator, but that's why school is a thing, no? 

The purpose of these posts is to keep me accountable. Don't laugh. It's education. It will get better. Weekly sketches are now a thing. On a better note, I built a sketchbook. It will probably be higher quality than what's inside it for some time.

Fireside Chat

Some stories hurt terribly. Some stories strike at chords a little too close to vulnerabilities. But sometimes that's entirely the point. 

I've come to see art as a conversation. An artist is one who sees, and good artists have a way of communicating that vision. For me, art is often a conversation with myself, a confrontation which seeks deeper understanding of my own beliefs. Not always. A huge part of me just wants to make beautiful things, but some stories need to be told and some experiences examined. 

Susan Sontag speaks about 'uglifying' in photographs––images of pain and suffering, stories of horror and grief. These photos instil pity and fear, evoking sentiment and thought. The illustrated story below, Samantha, carries a similar theme. It's not a pretty story, and stands in stark contrast to the multitudes of nice children's media. But the form is important. It's a story of abuse, told though the eyes of the abusers––ignorant, selfish, and unknowingly toxic "cool kids." The images tell a story of children, who, by no fault of their own, are suffering terribly. The dialog is an elementary school gossip column. The dramatic irony between what the audience explicitly knows from experience and the casual attitude of the narrator is rather uncomfortable. Like the photographs describes in Sontag's essay, Samantha is designed to shock and remind. 

Sontag says that "collective memory is not a remembering, but a stipulating... Memory is individual, unreproducible." In sharing this story with many different individuals, I've been met with a variety of responses. Some once were in the role of the narrator, others the victims of abuse. And some remain disconnected and refuse to confront their past. Samantha is a collective memory. It begins with my personal recollections, but functions as a vehicle to bring about others'. We often reminisce about how great childhood was, but this is likely because we've chosen to forget about the difficulty. Popular children's media helps forge memories of the ideal. It's a nice photo with no pimples, pain or wrinkles––the perfect profile pic on the Facebook page of our past. Alliteration aside, our collective memory of childhood reflects both denial and optimism. But perhaps we could benefit from acknowledging the other side. 

Samantha is an ugly story. My roommate is quick to remark how much he hates it. Which is great. It means he thought about it. I didn't make it to be loved. I hate it, too. But it was an important conversation for me to have. Revisiting a particularly painful piece of my childhood has helped me resolve to be better. The story ends with no catharsis. I've never had the chance to say "I'm sorry" to that girl. So my efforts to be kind to others are a way of apologizing to her. The fireside chat was an attempt for closure. For artistic value, I wish I hadn't given any explanation for the story, but I wanted to be a little didactic in getting my message across. 

But that's my memory.

Concerned Citizen

“What is it that you want to do with your life?” 

“Well, I want to be an artist.”

“Ha, no really. What are you doing with your life?”

One of the tragedies of modern American education is the way in which art is trivialized and downplayed. Many aspiring artists (including the authors) face a great deal of internal conflict between passion and “reasonableness.” And yet a world without art is empty and colorless. Art is a way of expressing things that can’t be expressed in any other way. It’s a kind of general human communication that strengthens and adds value to communities. 

Arlene Goldbard wrote an article wherein she describes a “Storyland”--a place where culture, history, and art are embraced and embedded into the framework of society. It is this paradigm shift, she argues, that will free up the hearts and minds of the people and generate empathy and emotional development to keep up with the rapid advances in cognition. In other words, art, or at least creative expression, is the key to a healthy society. 

In creating A Chance to Speak, we were interested in the relationship that art has with the community at large. How do they inform each other? In what ways is there an added value or contribution? Why is art important, and are we appreciating that? In some ways it was also an effort to validate our own artistic pursuits in a culture that very much encourages concession to pragmatism. We interviewed Cori Nelson, a BFA student at BYU, for her thoughts on art and community. She just completed her senior project, which is showing in the Harris Fine Arts center through the end of March 2016. For Cori, art is an important aspect of finding voice and expressing oneself through visual mediums. 

The original inspiration behind our documentary was our dual observation that so many students and staff walk by the beautiful pieces of artwork in the HFAC without a second thought. We wanted to hear an artist’s perspective on this dismissal and how he or she might prefer their work to be observed. After tracking down Cori, we learned about her enthusiasm for art as a mode of creative communication and her views regarding art’s value in relation community interest. 

Cori gave us so much golden content, it was very difficult to cut everything down to a three minute video. Our discussions ranged from the purpose of art in society to the deeply personal anxieties that plague artists within their perspective communities. It was hard to pick a concrete stream of ideas and concepts to follow, but we ultimately chose to include those sections of our interview that dealt most specifically with Cori and how her art plays a vital role among artists, students, and even humanity as a whole. The principle inspiration for the construction of our documentary was the Beehive Story we watched in class. We understood we had wide array of information to address, but just like Brad Barber’s distillation of Iron County, we had to make an honest attempt at justly exhibiting one paramount character who is initiating change within her community. 

World Building

Design Fiction and Deseret 

“What if…” is often the beginning of a form of art called design fiction, a term coined by Julian Bleecker in his essay of the same name. What if the world was fundamentally different? What would it look like? H.G. Wells was a master in design fiction, particularly with his novel, The Time Machine, in which he describes the future state of mankind. It’s not real, but it follows real patterns and rules. It’s a fantasy world, but it has its roots in real science. So it is with design. Artifacts from these manufactured worlds both augment and represent a kind of parallel reality displayed in the world from which they come.

So what if? As students at Brigham Young University, we have a natural interest in our Mormon roots. At one point in history, a state of Deseret was proposed. It never happened because of issues with the U.S. government regarding polygamy, but what if? What if the South won the war? What if the Union was so fractured that they didn’t care about a burgeoning community far in the west? What if the Mormons pulled it off and gained sovereignty?

               The 1860s would see a drastic change in the world when the South would end up winning the Civil War.  The members in the state of Deseret would take this chance to seriously begin building their nation.  Part of being a sovereign state meant they would need their own currency for the exchanging within its economy and government.  This Currency would reflect the events of Mormon history and significance to the nation of Deseret as well as its prominent leaders.

Because of industry in the West, and the lack of Power from any opposing country, Deseret would thrive. The country would benefit from its strong support of immigration, its control of the railroad, its trading of oil and gold, its organization, its colonization, and its immense population growth. By 1900 Deseret would have become a world superpower, a land filled with promise and a community bent on growth, forward and upward. A sense of religious nationalism would have been deeply rooted, and many would frame or carry defining documents, as Americans might with copies of their constitution. 

“Let us not go up to battle against Zion, for the inhabitants of Zion are terrible; wherefore we cannot stand.” - (Doctrine and Covenants 45:70)

In fulfillment of this prophecy, the people of Deseret would take a strong defensive stance during the conflicts throughout the 20th century. Though their ambassadors (i.e. missionaries) would still be sent out, they would also employ military force toward any country that sought harm to their congregations. The evolution of this thought might be expressed in a new flag. The twelve stars, representing the twelve tribes of Israel, point inward toward deseret, a honeybee, the protector of the hive. The red field represents the blood of the righteous calling for justice. The flag is a symbol of the state’s fierce defense and retribution against any that dare to come against God’s people.

Many events of our world would still “come to pass” in this world.  Hitler would still try to dominate the planet.  But what if Einstein immigrated to Deseret?  What if revelation was given to our military leaders just as Captain Moroni received it in the Book of Mormon?  Deseret would emerge as a world power.  We also read of the pride cycle in the Book of Mormon.  If Deseret prospered for too long there would likely be much apostasy.  Different factions of the faith would compete for power.