Watching movies and sketching usually go hand in had for me. This evening, it was the melancholy and thought provoking, Lost in Translation, featuring an innocently lost Scarlett
Johansson and a less innocent, but no less lost Bill Murray.
This is one of those movies I could watch no matter how many times I have seen it before. My reaction is always the same, a twist in the stomach, the flutter that comes from taking steps into a world where the ground isn't nearly as solid as I had supposed it would be.
As I journeyed through Tokyo and life transitions with the quirky, yet believable characters, I played a little more on my tablet, still in search of my artistic voice. I'm still looking for a way to say that without sounding pretentious. It isn't even about taking myself too seriously as an artist, it is about choosing a style and running with it. In the past years, I have done a lot of exploring with different styles, media, and influences, only to settle on the simple fact that at the end of the day, I'm going to draw what comes the most naturally. Every time I feel confident about the direction I'm heading in, I get nervous that it isn't "right" or that there isn't a place for it, or that it simply is a frivolous act. Strange that this is the way I feel about the most genuine pieces that I create.
In a way, my journey to accept myself as an artist is a little bit like the identity crises that overcome the characters in the movie. Even writing this feels a little silly... But sometimes writing it down helps to stop the spinning in my head.
Here are some of the sketches from during the movie.
