Not All Artists Are Starving...

Since the Impertinent Daughter started her first semester at Texas State, something has been coming up almost every time someone spots her doodling in the margins of her notebooks, or sketching in her sketchbook.

People tend to gather around her when she sketches or doodles.  It's a phenomenon I've encountered time and time again.  Sit down quietly in an out of the way spot, open your sketchbook, pull out a pencil or pen and start drawing, then look up and there's always someone standing there, staring intently at your work.

My daughter is used to this.  What's new is, because she's on a college campus, the inevitable question comes up: "What's your major?"

At first, she said, "I'm an art major."  And she encountered yet another phenomenon that virtually every artist/art student will identify with.

The Interrogation.

"You're an art major?  Really?  But... that's not really practical, is it?  You should be majoring in something that will ensure you can get a job, something that will pay well so you can survive on your own.  Art major?  Really?  I mean, if you have to do it, at least major in art education, then you could become a teacher."

Even some fellow art students will pop out with the, "Are you at least taking commercial art?"

*insert eye roll here*

"Why do they do that, Mom?" she asked as we walked through the aisles of the hated Hobby Lobby (I really, really hate giving my money to Hobby Lobby), looking for the Copic markers she needed.

"Because they don't understand that art is everywhere," I replied.

And it is.  Those commercials you see on TV?  An artist came up with the logos for that business, and most likely did story-boarding for the commercial.  An artist did the lighting and set design for them.

The ads you see in magazines or on billboards?  An artist did the layout for those, the design and the lettering.

Like that pattern on your duvet?  A designer made that?  Yes, they did, but you know what?  They had to take art to get there.

Oh, you know that movie you liked last week?  Yeah, artists did concept art, story boards, lighting and set design, costume design, makeup...

Like the comics in the paper?  Done by artists.  That editorial cartoon that made you so mad or made you go, "Yeah, I know exactly how that feels!"

Artist.

How about those cool characters in the latest XBox game you just can't stop playing?  Yeah, an artist had a lot to do with how they look.

I could go on and on, but I won't.

And yes, I know the argument of, "Not every artist makes it," or, "not everyone has the talent or the conviction to go the distance..."

Imagine if Bill Watterson had listened to that sort of nonsense?  We'd never have the awesomeness that is "Calvin and Hobbes."  Or Walt Disney?

Anyway, I asked the Impertinent One what she did when people said things like that to her.  She shrugged and said, "Meh, I just nod and say something like thanks, I'll take that under advisement, or thanks for shattering my hopes and dreams, or whatever."

Yeah, that made me laugh out loud.

"Sometimes," she said as she peered at the markers in their case, "people come up to me while I'm drawing and say, that's so amazing, are you an art major?  or what's your major, that is so cool! and I'll say oh, I'm going into game design, or computer science, and they'll be all horrified and say, No, you have to major in art, you're so talented and creative, that's so awesome, look at how cool it is, you HAVE to major in art!  And I'm like, make up your mind!!"

"Well," I said, after I stopped laughing, "the thing is, when you tell people you're going to major in art,  you know what they're seeing in their heads, right?"

"No," she said, turning to frown at me.  "What?"

"Most people, when they hear you're majoring in art, immediately think, Vincent Van Gogh!  Or Picasso,  or any other artist who started out poor and starving."  When she blinked, I nodded.  "No, seriously, they think, starving artist, living in a freezing attic in Paris, living on the generosity of friends and family, practically homeless.  They think you're either a painter or a sculptor, or something that to them is completely impractical, never mind that there are some very successful painters, sculptors, etc, out there."  I shook my head.  "It's ridiculous and has no basis in reality, but that's what's going on."

"That's... disturbing," Miss Impertinent said, slightly horrified.

"I know, but there it is.  That's why you keep hearing you should major in something practical, that can help you get a good job and set you for the future." I hugged her.  "Don't take it personally.  They don't know you, or what you can do.  And you're already learning so much, I can't wait to see what you do next!"

She blushed, but you know, I think the Impertinent Daughter is going to be awesome.  I know she will.

Because her art grows by leaps and bounds...

She's done it again. The Impertinent Daughter has blown me away with her art again.

Yeah, I know, proud mom here. But it's not like I can drag you all HERE to look at the door of my fridge, is it?

It took me a moment to realize this was a DRAWING!!!



It's just... wow. Just... wow.

Because she's amazing...

So, the Impertinent Daughter is taking art at the high school, and I have to say, I really, really like her art teacher. She's always challenging the Impertinent One, and I have seen some really stunning art coming out of that class, I have to say!

Over the last few weeks, they've been working on a self portrait, and while Miss Priss started out with the usual self portrait, the teacher felt she should try something different, to not be so literal.

And I have to say, the Impertinent Daughter rose to the challenge and... pretty much surpassed it, if you ask me!






Just in case you can't tell, she drew herself as being made out of paint brushes, and the background is tubes of acrylic paints. The actual drawing is much bigger, but our scanner can only get so much of it.

She is constantly stunning and amazing me. Goes without saying that I am amazingly proud of her, doesn't it?

It's a constant wonder for me to look at her and remember her as a two year old, lying on her stomach on the floor, fat crayon gripped firmly in her grubby little fist, drawing on a huge 18"x 24" artist's pad of paper, doing her best to imitate the dogs, cats, horses, and cows I was drawing for her. Sometimes, I still see that toddler. And other times, she just blows me away.

Kid, consider your mother's mind blown!!

"It was just my imagination, running away with me...."

So, after the Impossible Son's soccer practice, it was decided to head to our favorite local Tex-Mex restaurant, Mr. Taco. We were in the mood for fajitas, or at least the Husbandly One, the Impertinent Daughter, and I were. We have discovered that Mr. Taco's "fajitas for two" plate feeds the three of us nicely. The Impossible Son had his usual chicken strips, no gravy.

We forgot that Thursdays are live mariachi band night.

Did I mention there are all hard surfaces at Mr. Taco, with nothing to absorb sound?

o_O

Anyhow, yeah, it was loud, but the food was worth it! Once we'd eaten ourselves to a lull, the Impertinent One begged a pen off me, grabbed a clean napkin, and immediately began to sketch the mariachi band members, then took it to them before fleeing back to our table.

They passed it around among themselves, looking at it intently, then marched over to our table and serenaded her with "Just My Imagination," and a Spanish/English version of "I Just Called To Say I Love You."

Her smile was incandescent, and she giggled almost the entire time, hiding her face every once in a while, but mostly beaming at them with delight. I rubbed her back from time to time when it looked like she was getting overwhelmed, but mostly? She absolutely loved it!

I think she was also chuffed that two of the mariachi singers actually fought over who would get to sing to her! And if you've never seen a violinist and a trumpet player arguing over who is gonna sing to the pretty girl, then you have no idea what you missed!

I think she's just beginning to have an inkling of the doors her art can open for her. This is going to be an interesting journey to watch!

A gamer AND a manga artist...

The Impertinent Daughter's self portraits crack me up. She drew this one for her Deviant Art account, where she is known as the Angry Zangoose, so... she, of course, drew herself as... a human zangoose!

She got "Super Mario Smash Brothers" for her birthday, and she's been burning up the Wii with it ever since. Possibly, I'll sneak into it over the next few weeks before school is out so I can become somewhat competent at it before I'm forced to humiliate myself by trying to play it with the kids over the summer.

And yes, I'm still trying to get past the Leech Grave, but that's only because the Impossible Son keeps taking my Kingdom Hearts game and playing it, thus depriving me of valuable skill developing time. That's my story, and I'm sticking to it!

This is going to be a problem...

Okay, so... apparently I can write when I'm away from home.

I've had a plot bunny stalking me for a few days, and when we decided to make an excursion into Austin yesterday to hit Barnes and Noble and Book People to use our gift cards, it finally decided to attack.

I keep a notebook in my purse for writing purposes (yes, how old fashioned of me, right?) and I tried writing in the car, but you know, that didn't work so well. However, I remembered that my iPod Touch has a note writing app on it, so... I decided to try that et voila!

So... I can write when I'm not sitting here in my nice comfortable Auntie Nook where I have all this space and references, and I can look out the window and see my garden when I need distraction or to think... no, I have to be AWAY from it and... *head-desk*

Guess I'd better start looking at local options for places to write. Because, seriously, I can't keep tripping into San Marcos to hang out at the library to write! No comfortable corners there anyway.

There used to be a place here called "Java Motion" where I would go after dropping off the kids. I'd take the laptop or a notebook, buy a hot chocolate and something to nibble on, find a table in a corner near the window so I could see out on the square, and I'd spend a few hours writing. Didn't do it often, but when I did, I was always productive. They had wi-fi, so if I needed references, I could go online. It's closed last summer, and it looks like no one's going to buy the place and make a substitute. Which sucks.

The Dairy Queen here has wi-fi, but... no. No thank you. There is a library here, and while there is a nice space for writing, with at least two or three semi-private carrells, people with laptops are banished to this really crappy folding table in a very drafty hallway near the back, right by the restrooms. Not an ideal situation for writing in. And, there's a place called "The Baker's Rack" that has wi-fi, but it's small and a wee bit crowded...

Gah, why can't I write here????

On another note, the Impertinent Daughter did this rough sketch this morning, which I looked at with great amusement. She'd asked me to name a character for her to sketch, and my brain did it's usual thing of emptying of any useful content whatsoever, and I do remember grumbling something about not having enough caffeine for this before suggesting the first thing that came to mind. She, of course, shot it down immediately, so I responded with, "Roxas!" in desperation.

Which made her roll her eyes.

This is the result...

It's not Roxas. She said that. She said, "I don't know who this is, though it's kind of like you, kind of like me, but more like you when you're all 'I haven't had enough caffeine for this,' and all."

So, it's very like me, except I don't drink coffee because of the brain explodey thing. But, you get the idea.

So now I'm off to... um... not write. Or at least figure out where I can write. Woot. I think.