189 deviations.
61 public.
128 in storage.

I did some spring cleaning.

This goes to show just how long I've been here and how far I've come since I was doing nothing but awkward sketches of faeries and goth girls. Zade is an old geezer.

Confessions of a hopeless aesthete:

I didn't draw much for a long time, but I'm making a comeback. Art was never something I could stay away from for long. I can't help it. I can't not create. I'm not happy unless I'm making something. I am in love with art like a flame, like a man. So I'm not as good at it as I could be yet, but damned if I don't keep on scribbling 'til I die. I'm sure most artists reading this can relate, dig?

I mean, there's nothing but fascination and mystery in the pursuit of that harmony between technical prowess and emotional substance...whether you're composing a poem, a song or a painting, it's the same- the magic lies in having something neat to say, and then articulating it beautifully. When it doesn't come out the way you hoped, it doesn't matter. Doing it is so much fun that practice is not work. You're cutting your chops and having fun at the same time. And when it does come together, well, the satisfaction of having captured your vision is reward enough, regardless of payment or recognition received (or lack thereof).

It's like math. There are rules, they can be bent or broken. You can wrack your brain coming to it, but everyone eventually arrives at a solution. And there are so many possibilities, so many variables and permutations. When someone finds their own solution to that equation in a fresh and creative way, you can't help but admire it. You know the feeling, when you hear a great song or look at a painting that's amazing. You are comforted. The world is beautiful after all. If God exists, surely I've felt Him at those moments.

To feel that is not just important to me. It's vital. It's a need I must feed, like an addict. I wonder sometimes, Is Art a gift or an affliction?

Anyway, enough of my babbling. In true Zade tradition, I'm razing more of the old to make room for the new, and exploring new directions. It's taken long enough, but I think I'm finally starting to develop some semblance of a personal style that I could be comfy with for a long time. I'm excited because I can feel myself getting better. It's getting easier, more fluid and natural, my drawings are getting more dynamic, more expressive. I erase less and draw quicker. Increased knowledge of anatomy and technique are giving my characters more personality than before.

Unfortunately, I see a lot of godawful, grainy-yellow photos in this gallery's future, as I am without scanner. And, well...there's the business of me deleting something without warning two weeks after submitting it out of abject hatred of it. (If I was a god, I would be known for my floods.) See, I'm one of those relentless self-critics, and I get down on myself when I see how many people are a lot better than me at my chosen craft. But I'm going to try to just freakin' stop that unproductive train of thought before it leaves the station, because, trite as it sounds, if I'm busy thinking, "Why can't I draw like THEM?", then I won't be drawing like ME.

I took up the guitar not too long ago and I'm sucking pretty hard at it still, but the struggle is just driving home the point I just made. Music is an art like any other, and with a solid foundation of theory and lots of patience, maybe I'll get past the cerebral, awkward stage and just let my fingers do the walkin'. And maybe, just maybe, start finding my own solutions to the equation that fit. And someone, even if it's only myself, will be comforted. Because really, what is the obsession with art but the search for that moment like on the old variety shows when the Secret Word of the Day is spoken and confetti and balloons pop out? That sacred chord that opens up the floodgates of that sweet milk 'n honey Abraham and Isaac got? There is nothing more rewarding than a job well done, when there is nothing left to fix, looking upon your creation and saying, "It is good."

Art, I am your slave. I hope my humble offerings please you. Hook a sista UP. Give me the good stuff. I promise I'll meet you halfway.

<3 Zade