Yeah, I have yet to purchase, let alone try on, a new pair of jeans--literally, and metaphorically. And it has little to do with any fears. It would seem recovering from events in December required more time than I thought. Also, those events inspired me to slip back into some old habits. So, I have begun to climb back out of a hole I dug. Hopefully next weekend finds me readjusted and on track again. After all, it is a new year.
Meanwhile, here is a lighthearted confession.
(I have shared another one of Norman Rockwell's "teacher" illustrations before. Here is another one I discovered recently.. I am enjoying it immensely, particularly the composition and placement of the various students, especially the two girls sitting alone. But also how the other "children"--there are at least two, a boy and a girl, who look more mature than the others--are gathered and focused on the teacher. If you have some time, click on image below, you will be able to see a series of illustrations from Rockwell and other artists depicting schoolchildren. There is an interesting unpublished painting by him, and another one called "A Russian Classroom".)
Sigh. I want to be the next Norman Rockwell. There is something about his style, the color of his illustrations, and how he composes an image. Some people see it as sanitized, quaint. I think they are not looking close enough. There is a wit and cleverness that is carefully exposing dirty details. But you have to be willing to embrace, enjoy, and appreciate the whimsical aspects of his work first. If you approach him with cynicism, glibness, and sarcasm, you will miss the gritty moments throughout the piece.
I already have a collection of daily moments that I would like to capture on canvas. One in particular amuses me every time I think about it (I got caught smirking as I was typing this sentence out). But there are others, too. A scene or two in a dance studio lobby. Sitting around at a softball or field hockey game. Lounging by the pool on a late August day. And standing in front of my own class of students. Oh, and one by a Christmas tree as well.
I also have a few other concepts that would not have made it into the Saturday Evening Post. Not because they were dark and edgy, but because they would have dealt with taboo subjects (for the 1950's). And, of course, a certain amount of nude flesh (more fun than erotic). I mean, some people like to weigh themselves with nothing but their socks on their feet. And post-coitus conversations usually involve some exposed skin. Plus, I do not think family publications in those days could handle a woman exercising in yoga pants. Just a little too risque for those days.
Mostly, I want to start sending out some awesome looking birthday and holiday cards.
In the end, these are just dreams. At some point I have to sit down and focus on my drawing skills. That will take time and effort, which requires building better habits and researching new ones. I will have to move from random moments of sketching, to deliberate practice. Not tonight, because I have this blog post to finish. Maybe tomorrow, some time between the morning chores, and getting ready for bed.
For now, I will drift off to sleep thinking of all the illustrations and paintings I would like to get done someday (and ignore the fact that I still do not have a new pair of jeans).
(I just had a thought, maybe a cross between Norman Rockwell and Edward Hopper...)
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