I haven't drawn a self portrait in long, long time. I'm going on nearly a decade without drawing my face. But how? How did I get through art school without one, or two, or seventy?
Simple. I'm just not all that fond of drawing myself. In my figure drawing classes, I outsourced the modeling for all my homework projects... it's a wonder my family and friends still put up with me. Hours and hours of sitting still while my pencil and I scratched along from across the room. I sat looking intensely at their bodies and faces, unblinkingly recording their every bump and fold, when I could have just as easily sat in front of the full length mirror in my closet.
I'm ready though. I think. And it's just as weird as I anticipated. Looking at your own face for long periods of time is both strange and wonderful--like really seeing your own ear for the first time, or just how many cowlicks you have, or what it might be like to watch yourself dreaming.
At the risk of sounding self-celebratory, I'm pumped about this body of work. I'm excited to insert myself into this narrative, experiment with the figure again, and see what comes out. Winter is long, but I am patient. And there is plenty of drawing to do.