I love to draw. I have seldom loved to draw portraits, and the instances of my doing it have been rare. As a friend aptly put it, I have a very harsh frame of reference by which I judge myself, and I've stayed away from drawing people to avoid my most damning self pronouncements of artistic ineptitude. I even convinced myself, for complex reasons that we'll just stay away from here, that I didn't draw people because I wasn't interested in people. Yet I have, from time to time over the years, drawn people nonetheless. And because an artist's most readily available model is himself, I've done more portraits of myself than of any other single person among the small number that I've drawn.
Portraiture is really intimidating. I can get away with lots of little inaccuracies with other subjects, but drawing people and their faces requires far more skill and focus in observation and draughtsmanship. Tiny nuances inaccurately perceived are instantly recognized as flaws in a portrait. And of course, for me, there is the additional challenge that I refuse to draw from photographs. But, the same friend suggested to me just yesterday that I consider taking commissions for portraits of pipe collectors, individually and in groups, enjoying their pipes and one another's company. Wow, now that's intimidating. And in spite of my horror that I might be grouped with sidewalk artists doing $10 portrait sketches on the fringes of Central Park, it's intriguing. As my restless thoughts return more and more often to speculation about becoming a full time professional fine artist, the notion of entering the merciless crucible of portrait art whispers "I dare you."
Do I dare?
self portrait, 8 1/4 x 11 9/16, 9B graphite pencil