Process is key for all art forms, whether it is painting or drawing or taking good pictures. One of my favorite types of art is digital art. With digital art the only real limits are your imagination and your software.
Most people use Photoshop for their digital art. While I have played around with free versions and pirated copies I never got to use it in all it’s fullness. I liked what I saw but I can’t give a proper review of it.
There was a program years ago that I used on the pc. I lost it when we upgraded and have long since forgotten the name of it. I made a ton of images on it. Here are a few:
The program I use most often currently is PicsArt. It’s a phone app but it is pretty powerful. Unlike most phone apps I have used it comes with much much more than just filters. You can crop, you can create stickers for later use, you can edit light, color, clarity, and many other photo elements.
The results aren’t as fun as the pc programs but they can still be fun:
I am hoping that once I get back to a real house with a pc I can find a program that matches the power of Photoshop without the expense. Any digital artists out there have suggestions?
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I got an email the other day about writing in your own voice. We grow up being told in school how to write, and writing in your own voice is a big no no. You must write through a filter, just like good speakers talk through a filter. I can’t tell you how many “great” speakers truly grate on me with their speech patterns (Hillary Clinton and Obama both have a cadence that runs me up a wall).
It’s much the same with writers, there are some bloggers who I read once and think “never again.” Sometimes it is because they are too long winded. Sometimes it is because they are too stiff and formal, sometimes they are just trying to sound too fluffy for my tastes.
That article really got me thinking though. I filter a lot. (My 12th grade English teacher would kill me for using “a lot.”) I hold back so much out of fear. Mostly fear of the audience and what they might think, but also just fear of really being myself. (And “really”… she really hated that one.)
Whether it is writing or painting or picking a picture to post (don’t get me started on my guitar playing) I hold back. I don’t put my all into anything, I am afraid of it. I am afraid you will see me for what I am. You will see my flaws, my lack of talent, my lack of ability, or my ignorance. I fear that you will chuckle at me or walk away confused by me. I fear you will think I am a fool or a dork or any number of other pejoratives.
Perhaps I am all too aware of my flaws. Knowing them makes it all the more difficult to show my best. I am not the aloof kindergartner who actually believes his recorder playing sounds good (it never sounds good), I am a grown man who knows what he is trying for and exactly how far off the mark he is.
But just because I am not quite on the mark does not mean that I can’t show off my progress. I am getting ever closer to the mark, when I put in the effort. Whether it be in painting, in writing, in taking pictures, in playing music (that one’s in a holding pattern) or any of the dozen or so things I attempt to do in life, I am progressing.
I need not fear my own voice or my own hand, for both are bound to improve with exercise.
It has been awhile since I’ve written one of these. But I’m inspired, despite the fact that it is Wednesday night.
I just finished watching a biography of Eva Hesse. I had never heard of her before Netflix decided I needed to download her biography. While the art wasn’t exactly my taste, the life was certainly one of interest.
What is it about the slow, tedious times in life that inspire creativity? Why does it seem like the best artists are the ones who can capture the worst of emotion and pour them out painstakingly into works that last generations?
I will never be well known. Netflix will never tell you to download my biography (man, would that be boring). But I’d like to think that just a bit of me gets captured in these random spurts of activity driven by the slow and mundane hours of life.
Perhaps by the end of this week, before this appears on your screen, I might even pick up a paintbrush again and have more to show than just a series of long-exposure selfies.