Rich Sigberman Art & Illustration 90

When I was 8 years old, in 1960, my Aunt Miriam took me down to the basement in her big (to me) house, opened up a drawer in a beat-up looking dresser, and said, "here-take them, they're yours". She was referring to a drawer full of comic books that belonged to my older cousins, and when all those colors from the covers hit me, an explosion went off in me that has not quite subsided all these years later. My love affair with cartoon art, color, and type and image began on that day.

I've experimented with many styles of art over the years, but it seems I always come back to my cartoon background. Yesterday, I went into the attic and pulled out three cardboard boxes of comic books. I need to let you know that my art studio space is decorated with old comic books in plastic sleeves, affixed to the walls. There are probably about 150 up, creating a myriad color scheme, and populated by flying costumed humans, mostly garbed in primary colors. I look at these comic book covers with the same sense of wonder and awe that I did when I was 8. I also consult them from time to time for a color combination or a composition when I'm stuck for one.

When I pulled down the flip-chart page that had my scheduled goals for 2006, some of which I reached, many of which I did not, it created a new space on the wall for more comic books to be put up. Thus, the pulling down of the boxes from the attic for some new material. This is not to mention that I find looking through these to be a pleasant experience that I indulge in from time to time, usually once or twice a year.

Upon looking around the room's walls, I spied a Justice League of America comic book from 1960 that hd faded quite a bit. It is ironic that the comic books I like the most are the ones that are the most faded, since I like to keep up them out in the room which gets sunlit. The Silver Age ones fade much more than the Golden Age (older) ones, obviously pointing out a lowering of the print quality from 1940 to 1955.

This particular comic book cover had a fine concept: a chess match is being play4ed between the villain and one of our protagonists, and the latter is not faring well. Each time he makes a move, one of his hero pals disappears from the table! The colors had faded from this comic book, and I have been known to re-touch my comic book covers in the past. This one, however, was a fairlly valuable one, being #1 in the series, and the manner in which I touch up the covers is quite unacceptable to those collectors and dealers who engage in pricing them. I had paid $100 for this book, and was totally aware that by painting on top of it, I'd be devaluing it. This is a most un-American act, for as we all know, monetary value of all items is what this country's economy is based on. Many people make their relligion out of that belief.

I stared at the cover. I Googled a reproduction of it on my computer screen and saw how it was supposed to look with vibrant reds, oranges and greens. I grabbed it out of its plastic holder and pounced! I used a red magic marker with a brush point to make the Flash' costume bright red, and to hell with the monetary value! I'm looking at it now up on the wall - damn, it looks good!

Somehow doing this gets me back in touch with the first rush of my art career. Every time I engage in the activity of "comic book restoration" it reminds me of the excitement of my profession, and it has little to do with monetary value.

Two days ago, I finally got it together to work a full day, mostly on an ambitious piece that is 5 feed wide, and populated by some 40 characters from the Velocity Circus production. I felt good about the conerted effort, and good enough with the results to call my client and tell him that the pencilled preliminary art was ready to be viewed. I would combine visiting him in San Francisco with a scheduled visit to the surgeon for a follow-up to see how I was healing from my December 1 operation.

I went to the surgeon first. He was clearly multi-tasking and in a rush. He looked at my wound, muttered something about not liking what he was seeing, and grabbed a sharp instrument and re-cut part of it (sorryif your'e reading this and are abit sqeamish, folks!). I had no warning, no prepartion for the wound itself with alcohol or a pain-deadening agent, and was pretty stunned by his action. And, it was action, all right - done so quickly I hardly knew what was happening. My questions as to what he was doing and why went largelly unanswered, and out he rushed. P.S. - it hurt, just in case you were wondering.

I went off to my next scheduled appointment with G from Velocity, and it went very well. He was pleased with the way the art was coming along, which was a big relief to me, as one never knows how a client may react. For the first time, I was able to stand on top of the art, which was unfurled on his living room floor and take it in. It looked good and had a lot of energy in it, which was an important quality that we both want in the art. G was so inspired by viewing the art, that he quickly emailed me about 12 more images to put in it! it's going to be a great piece of art for a great person (he is a delight!), and the budget is fine.

So, what's the set-back? Today, I'm tired again, as my body apparently needs some extra energy to re-heal itself up. I did some nice work this morning, did a few errands locally, and am now, at 2pm, ready for a nap! How can I get all my other things done, like gifts, and some idea for a Valentine's Day piece, when I'm just slugging along this way? I'd write some more, but the couch is calling me. zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Today may be the first day in 24 days that my concentration is more or less what I'm accustomed to. It has been that long since that operation, and I sure underestimated the time it would take to feel "normal" again (whatever that means). The surgeons fail to warn us about the side-affects of an operation, and maybe with good reason. Who needs to be forewarned that they will feel lethargic and without motivation for the next 3 and a half weeks?

So, I am working on the big piece of art that was commissioned of me a few months ago; it is 5 feet wied, and has many fantastic characters in it. Some of my early challenges in the pencilling stage have been to be accurate with the character renderings, but not slavishly so, and to have most of them look as if they were shot out from a vanishing/center point near the middle of the art, and still keep them in their characeristic pose. It is a tall order, and I may have been douting whether or not I was up to it, thus the procrastination.

But, I think it is coming together well. Today is the first day I feel that way, and, while it is still a challenging piece of art, I feel like I'm beginning to take control of it, rather than the reverse. About time, too.

So, it is December 21, the Winter Solstice today. I've noticed that people around me are being a bit more emotional than usual, and that I have been stuck artistically for the last couple of days. I could use that operation three weeks ago as an excuse, but I don't think that is the real reason. In fact, I'm not sure what the real reason is.

As I wrote a few days ago, it is rare for me to have the art equivalent of "writer's block", but I think I've got it right now. Yesterday, I stared at a large piece of white watercolor paper, and for the second day in a row, was less than productive. True, the project is big and can be intimadating, but that usually is not a problem for me. After doing a bit of sketching on the 5 foot wide art, I sat down on the couch and stared at the walls (although my studio walls, lined with comic books from the 1940s-60s is quite entertaining!), and felt tired. So, maybe whatever is affecting others around me this time of year is doing the same to me, and I'm just not officiallly recogniziing it.

When one is not feeling creative in a field that depends on that and a level of inspiration, what is one to do? Usually, I move on to other tasks, and to some extent I've done this over the last few days, assisting my wife in making some lovely events here to celebrate Chanukah and friendship. But I think I've run out of those tasks and it's time for me to force something to happen on that big, white piece of paper. Maybe this will have to be a case of "99% persperation and 1% inspiration". I think it's time to push myself a bit harder.

It's rainy and cold out there today. It is the shortest day of the year. A lot of people are experiencing "holiday angst". I'm not immune to all this, but I need to take that energy and channel it into making some great art. If I can't do this, then I'm less than a fine artist, because this is what artists do: they take the world around them as they perceive it, and turn it into art.

I've rarely been the type of artist who is scared to begin a particular piece, whether it be a commission or something I'm doing on my own for myself. Usually, I just sort of jump on the work and methodically go about my business until the piece begins to take on a life of its own, and then my excitement for it grows.

I have a friend, John, a terrific artist, on the other hand, who used to speak about commissioned pieces with a mixture of terror, dread, and wonder. I recall his saying of one such commission that he would stare at the canvas, but be unable to work on it, and then add that "this piece of art is eating me up". Of course, eventually, he would produce something wonderful, but he usually had to go through some kind of self-imposed hell before that would happen. And, I would chuckle to myself over his angst, not being familiar with it or understanding it.

But, recently I came up against my own form of this "artist's block" with a commission that I delayed doing most of my work on for nearly two months. Sure, I had plenty of excuses like other jobs that had tighter deadlines, and my operation, but basically I was frightened. What scared me was the size of the piece to be: five feet wide by two and one hald feet in depth, and the breadth of the art, having to include some 50 different characters who took part in a stage production. The size is larger than my comfort zone, and the characters are all based on photos I've got that are not real clear. Also, I didn't want to slavishly adhere to the photographs, but to put my own interpretive stamp on the art, which is just what the person commisioning me wants. He has been very patient and supportive, so what is the problem?

The problem was that I was scared I would not be up to the challenges involved. Of course, the only way to deal with a fear is to meet it head on, anf finally, two days ago I did that. But, boy, did it take time to get to that point!

I unravelled my roll of watercolor paper - it comes rolled and "lively" and takes some time to smooth out and put down flat on the table. I then looked at my preliminary sketches that, while being short on detail, had a good feeling and compositional strength. Then, I chose a near-central vanishing point from which most of the action would be emerging, and began to draw my 5 main characters. I wanted to stay loose, but my nervousness compromised that. Of course, I was still working in pencil and would re-do anything I was less than thrilled with. Once I drew four of the characters, I decided that my vanishing point was too high, and erased it and the guidelines that came from it, and began again. This was a good sign that I was totally committed to doing whatever it may take to get the art right, and that I would be willing to re-draw parts of it to get that.

Working big is not that hard, in fact it's fun in that one draws fromt the shoulder more than from the wrist, at least to get those larger compositional flows, swings, and diagonals that are the foudnation of the art. One just has to make an adjustment for one's scope and lense, and work proportionally bigger. Scale makes a lot of difference undoubtedly, but it sure is inconvenient with my set-up and my usual point of view, which is a more fine, miniaturist one.

I've only done the major characters now, and some of the structural elements, which happen to be the two major bridges in the SF Bay area. I'm already fiddling with them, wanting them to be both structured and loose at the same time, an apparent contradiction that I'm trying to make cohesive. Hey, John, this art is eating me alive! Now I understand what you were saying. But, at least I began it - whew!

Today is Saturday, December 9th, 2006 for those of you who may be wondering. I'm one week removed from the operation, and still not feeling all that great - pain is still there, slowly diminishing. But, it's still at the point where physically moving is not easy, and that means I won't attend CITP today -that's Community Integral Transformative Practice, for those of you who didn't know. It is a fine mind/body/heart/soul practice in a community setting, and for me today, it's the "body" part that has me falling short. If I can't participate in the physical movements that form a major part of each meeting, the only other reason to go is for the friendships. On a day like today, with rain coming down, I've made the decision to stay home, which gets me to the 'free day" part of this.

My work is relatively light (although I do owe someone a big piece of great art, which I will put my attention on as soon as I am feeling 100%). I have a few more winery tasting rooms to draw in pencil for an illustrated map, but will need to wait for approval to go on to ink. As it is Saturday, I don't think I will be receiving that approval today. This means that after a few hours of work, I will be ready to face one of my favorite challenges: a big, blank piece of white watercolor paper! Oh, boy!

I could begin a big "Louis Armstrong" for which I did a fine sketch a few days ago, or a mandela the type of which I used to do way back when I was more of a seeker. But it is a pure abstract that is calling to me. I have not done one in a few months and the freedom of them is most alluring. It's the freedom of not needing to draw anything literal and the freedom of the expression coming from the visceral decsion making that dominates this type of art, even if the intellect is involved as well. Since I began doing this type of art six years ago, Payne's Gray pieces have been what have attracted me the most, and I just got a new tube of it. So, before beginning, this is what I have in my mind (that's the intellect). I know that it will change organically as I work on it, and that's where the fun and adventure lie.

This is the type of art that I had few thoughts of generating income from when I began doing them. That is often my yardstick for validation, of course. But it so happens that I did sell some half dozen of these abstracts this year, with another sale in the offing, and I'm proud of that. We self-taught artists need to feel proud of ourselves and our art, and if sales are part of that, so be it. Of course, I rarely sell an orignal piece for as much as I'd like to, but that's another story.

So, as if I needed humbling, the surgery went well on Friday, and Saturday and Sunday were days of pain and laying around. Sure I was using Vicoden, but it has its side affects too. Let's just say that I got my fill of rented-movie viewing in over the last two days.

Now, it's Monday, and I've turned the corner on pain - it is bearable and I can actually cconceive of drawing and painting again. For the last 2.5 days, there was way too much discomfort to think of much besides my own body. Things like walking, talking, and (sorry) going to the bathroom were paramount on my mind, and each one was a big accomplshment, heroic when done without whining.

Today, I was hopeful of actually taking a field trip with Pam and two wonderful people from out of town whom I would love to know better. Good sense, however, and a dose of abdominal pain told me otherwise, and I made the reluctant decsision to stay here and do more laying around. I had to ask myself if I were in their shoes, would I want a person in obvious pain to be around me, and the answer was "negatory". So, another day of hanging out it will be.

If I am up to it, there are some gifts for people I would love to do. The difference between making an art gift and an art job is huge: for one thing, no one complains if the style is not precisely what they were anticipating. For another, I have nothing to fear, so I can have more fun, take some chances. I have no idea, though, if I'll have the strength to work today.

Humbled I am, then, by the limitations that the body puts on us. I guess those health insurance companies know what they're doing when they raise the rates of those who begin to age past 50. I've lost my main leverage in my argument with them: that, I've never been ill or needed hospitalization. Now, Blue Shield can laugh at me, go "so, there" and hike up my rate some more. Heck, they would have done it anyway.

It's been a long time since I last wrote. My "daily" blog is turning into a weekly one, and I offer my apologies to all those who are anxiously waiting new entries - all two of you. The main reason for this is that tomorrow, I will have an operation, and, as we all know, there is no such thing as a "minor operation". Really, anything can happen in the way of complications, although the chances of this happening are quite small - it's for a hernia, if you must know.

The fact of the operation, plus the recovery time means that the big job I am currently workin on MUST be done by tonight, as it is dated material and still has to go in for production. It's a real good job, fro my long-standing client, and I'm enjoying it, and I'm working most intensively on it too. I've been at my table at 4 a.m. the last two mornings in an effort to get maximum time in on it. I will get it done!

Finally, the once-good cllient has turned very bad, indeed. After giving me nothing but the best feedback on my first two jobs for him, all of a sudden he has accused me of just about everything except being Attila-the Hun. Now, he writes, I've "misrepresneted" myself, and have done "substandard" art work. Suffice it to say that it is hard for me to deal with so many contradictory statements and make any sense of them..oh, yes! He added that he wanted to part on good terms.

Tomorrow I will have this surgery and then be out of commission for a couple of days after. I look forward to being stronger eventually, and getting my body in better shape this year. I have let it go too long. draft