Moments of attention
Sketches are, by definition, approximate representations. But maybe they have a life of their own.
“The fundamental thing about sketching is that it is about asking, not telling.”
- Bill Buxton, Canadian computer scientist and designer.
Welcome to another newsletter.
I thought I’d begin with that Buxton quotation because today I’d like to briefly explore the subject of sketching.
I value his point of view, because it also approximates what happens when I try to put pen to paper. My drawings are not a faithful reproduction of the real world. They are something else. In sketching I like to use pen or marker for my outlines, not pencil, because right from the start I accept there’s no hope of me getting it right. Consent is somehow freeing. I’ve crossed the Rubicon. I can’t erase pen lines. So it helps to shrug off the idea of accuracy and then see what comes of it.
Sketches cannot be used as a blueprint to build an object; they are not real in that sense. They don’t “tell.” And as Buxton says, images ask questions: “Why is that corner so?” or “What does that fold in the coat show? ” or “What is the perspective there?” Most often, the questions are self-directed: “Why is my hand unable to put on paper what my eye and brain perceive so clearly?”
In the end, sketching is an activity that helps one observe things that may have been barely noticed before. Little drawings are not mirrors of the world (the idea itself is laughable). But they do have a life of their own. They capture a moment. They can be meditative.
Very often I look at my sketches and cringe. At other times, I look at the same drawings and notice some things I like. They do ask questions; they also convey some ideas. Mostly, however, they represent moments of awareness and personal joy in the process by which these awkward representations came into being.
Let me show you some pages from my sketchbook that illustrate what I mean.
Recently I also tried to sketch an image from a news story, just to see what the effect would be. This is a scene of people in Gaza running and riding bicycles through debris towards parachutes delivering food packages.
Feelings can also be conveyed by inanimate objects:
Sometimes I like to imitate others; people like Austin Kleon, for example. Austin describes himself as writer who draws. He has written a number of books on creativity, including Steal Like an Artist. Austin is also a popular public speaker. He maintains that nothing is original and that “showing your work” has value. Sometimes exposing your thinking process or journaling is as interesting as a finished product.
Last weekend we helped a family member with a move to Toronto. In honour of Austin, here’s a page from my daily planner:
I have also tried to draw myself. (Here, I cringe).
Thanks for indulging me by coming this far.
In closing, I’m going to shift gears and share a short video (2:38) that also relates to the creation of images. It highlights an interesting public project.
Over a period of six years, scientists scanned thousands of animals to create a unique three-dimensional database. The openVertebrate (oVert) project was a collaboration among 25 institutions to create reconstructions of museum specimens and make them freely available online. Scientists used CT scanners to make multiple X-rays of bone structures and then compiled them into three-dimensional computer renderings. They also used contrasting colours to visualize soft tissue like skin and muscle.
The results are mesmerizing:
These images, like sketches, also beg a question: is artificial intelligence our destiny, or is nature so amazingly complex and wondrous that no machine could ever duplicate it’s intricacy?
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I appreciate you reading this newsletter. If you know anyone who might be interested in what I write about, please send them a link.
A full collection of past articles, with thematic headings, is at the Zanepost web page, located here. Please visit.
Until next time,
-Renato.
RZ It’s a date. Coffee (for a sketch). And maybe we’ll sneak in a motorcycle ride too.
Keep them coming. They make my day.