"Let's Jam," Revisited

This article was originally published 7 years ago right at this time of the year. At the time I was "winging it" on a piece. If I could remember what piece it was, I'd post it here for reference. Currently, I'm in the complete opposite mode--a little unsure about how to tackle a piece which was very successful as a sketch. So rather than dive in I'm doing way more preparation, underpainting and so on than usual. Making distinct palette decisions before laying the first dab of color down. Using the analogy below, I'm trying to write out the sheet music entirely ahead of time, to minimize the worry that I'll mess something up along the way. Leaving nothing to chance, as it were. Here, then, is the original article:

---

When I used to play bass guitar, having begun late and without the level of commitment I had for my painting and drawing, I was never really able to jam. You know, pick a key, start a beat and just let the music flow spontaneously. This was no surprise--I lacked a lot of music theory and the chops, to boot. What I played I played by ear, it sounded right so I played it. But I had to sit there working out my lines, and then put it to music. Towards the end there I was learning theory and the concepts that allow one to jam were becoming clear to me. But I never got to that point.

With painting, however, I am able to jam. I'm not the painting equivalent of a "guitar god" by any stretch, but I can hold my own, I guess. What I mean is that I can attack a canvas with very little pre-conceived structure and usually work my way through it to a satisfying end. usually. As an illustrator who often works rapid-fire either due to deadline or payment constraints, I've had to do my share of jamming. It's always a little scary to start a painting sometimes without even a color theme in mind. I'll decide something on the fly, lay it down and the rest of the painting must then be constructed in the key of, say, yellow. From there I usually attack it without much more thought, and my hands take over like a guitarist's must--my brain being taxed but not in a particularly deliberate way--sort of reacting and adjusting to the visual music happening spontaneously before me.

Some artists I know are excellent at jamming; in fact I'd say it's their forte. There are guys like my buddy Scott Fischer who kick ass. His ability to jam on a piece is incredible, as are his chops. Some guys like myself are more into constructing music, I mean, paintings. I listen to a lot of constructed music and not so much to jazz or jamming rock bands. If it were up to me I'd plan out and be very deliberate about each painting, trying to maximize what I'm trying to communicate by bending my skills towards a pre-determined end. I can jam some, and like it to an extent, but I identify better with more "constructing" artists like Michael Whelan or, classically, Sir Lawrence Alma-Tadema. of course I don't compare to either of them either.

Currently I am in jamming-mode, which is full of surprise on the one hand but full of anxiety on the other. Less anxiety than I used to have--that's the product of practice. But I'm 2/3 through a piece and I still have no idea how it'll turn out.

I make a lot of analogies in my mind between music and painting, so don't be surprised if you see that cropping up in these entries. These analogies helped me do what I was able to do when I did dabble in music, even if my education was lacking. I would "see" the music and mood I was trying to accomplish and would be fairly successful in squeezing it out of my amateur fingers. I believe this phenomenon is called synesthesia, and it's one that's interested me in general since then.

Some aspects that will never be analagous are the muli-million dollar rock star mansion and the ladies throwing themselves at me. That's a shame.

From the Collection of...pt.5

Back in High School, when I used to play D&D and read Dragon Magazine regularly, I began to see work by a young buck by the name of Tom Baxa. He was doing, among other things, interior black-and-white illustrations and I was enjoying them quite a lot, enough to take notice of this guy's name and remember it. It's also a catchy name on its own: Baxa. Looks nice, even. This was while I was still on the other side of the fence: fan and aspiring artist.

Within a few years, however, I'd hopped the fence and was a journeyman artist (but still a fan). I was attending my first GenCon (in Milwaukee), probably in 1995 when Magic's Ice Age had released. I went with my portfolio in arms, not with art in the art show or anything. I just floated around and saw stuff. I walked into the art show as Tom was setting up and kinda stood back and watched. It was a fun moment, as I stood there straddled between fan and colleague. I'm not sure I bothered introducing myself, as I was still a newbie whose work Tom would not possibly know. Also, 16 years ago....

Later on, I came back and picked up a piece he had on his wall. It was nice on its own, reasonably priced, and done in a method I hadn't used before. Done on illustration board, it has an Acrylic or ink underpainting, and overlaid on it is a transparency with what appears to be a photostat of the original ink drawing. It creates a nice effect, one which has been rendered utterly obsolete in a digital age, unfortunately. I've scanned it in three pieces for you to check out:

What I love best is how on the watercolor layer, knowing which parts of the overlay are pure black, he didn't bother to paint in the darks so that the painted layer would be "complete" on its own. He never meant it to be shown or displayed apart from by this method. If it were me, I could not resist at least putting in the same color used on the creature's knee-cap. But that's why I'm slower than I need to be. I actually have no idea what this was used for. Never really cared to find out. I'm not even sure Tom knows that I own this.

As time goes on, in this small industry you get to know almost everyone eventually, and I've been honored to count Tom as a friend in the years since then. We don't see each other often, being on opposite coasts now. As well, I haven't attended any West Coast shows in some years. To see more of what he has, click on over to his website.

10 Questions with The Art Order

Many of those who read this blog are already familiar with The Art Order. A community / blog begun by Jon Schindehette, Wizards of the Coast's Senior Creative Director, it's a great place to learn about fantasy illustration as a business, and see a group of dedicated illustrators of all levels pushing each other forward through various directed projects he proposes.

At IlluXCon, Jon asked the participating artists if they'd like to answer 10 questions, which were asked by other aspiring and emerging illustrators. As such, they cover more of the ins-and-outs of life as an illustrator, and so have a different flavor than some other basics. For instance, there's no interest in biography, it's straight to the meat.

I was happy to participate, and so you can read the candid answers to my 10 Questions here.

Thanks to Jon for the opportunity to share, and for making a powerhouse community during his non-existent spare time.

Networking, and Social Rings

I recently attended the amazing IlluXCon again, and my second Racebrook retreat, within a few weeks of each other. More on both in coming weeks, most likely. New York Comic-Con fell between both, but I was too wrapped up in work to make it down this time. It has all put me in mind again of an essay I read some 10 years ago by C.S. Lewis called, "The Inner Ring." Particularly if you are in a profession where networking of any kind goes down, I highly recommend the read.

I agree with Lewis in that such things as Rings are inherently neutral, often good, and potentially quite injurious to self or others' in often very subtle ways. Lewis, after all, was a member of a small, elite Ring of writers known as "The Inklings," a Ring many writers today would've loved to have been a part of. Being that I'm pretty sensitive to my own motives, I find that I perhaps spend a lot of energy contemplating the states of the Rings I am in and not in. Auditing my motives for being in each or desiring to be...or not be...part of others.

And nine...nine Rings were gifted to the race of Men who, above all else, desire power.....

Let me explain: freelance illustration is inherently a Ring-based profession. One works alone, largely. But the moment the illustrator engages with others in the field, the Rings arise. These days, the internet has allowed for all sorts of other Rings that wouldn't have existed before. Nowadays you can be part of a small Ring of email confidants, a private listserv or two, maybe a group blog. Those are new ways of participating in Rings from home. Your Social Media circles form others, and Google+ has just embraced the concept of "circles" rather explicitly so that you literally drag people into actual circles you consider them "in." A little yucky, although eminently practical. I also find I use Google+ the least....

Socially, there are the genuine friends you've made in the field. There are others who you don't know well yet, but whom you find interesting and would love to get to know better to see if they can't become genuine friends, too. There are events you get invited to, or not--some you wish you could go to, some you don't care for as much. Illustrators who've worked on projects you have. Digital artists. Traditional artists. Realistic. Stylized. The Rings are many.

An event like Illuxcon is a strange concentration of overlapping Rings. With so many artists present, it can be strange navigating the social structures. For instance, one of the main things I do at conventions is to try to spend as much time as I can with those few people I've become the best friends with. I like this best, even as I recognize it might not be the smartest use of the time, business-wise. Screw that, though. But that Ring in itself, and the way I jealously guard the limited time I get to spend with some of them can also become a bad thing.

The bad thing begins with the increasing realization that I've been illustrating quite awhile now. I should state that I *never* assume that someone knows who I am, my name, or my work, even in the field. Maybe that's weird, but it still surprises me when someone who I've never introduced myself to knows me or my work. I've not yet cracked the upper echelons of skill and prestige, but there are younger illustrators around now, making their way, who potentially might remember my work from as early as grade school. Frightening, I know. These younger illustrators are around, establishing themselves, forming Rings with like-minded people and friends they've made who are coming up alongside, quite often. Awesome. And here I am trafficking among them, trying to maintain my own Ring priorities at a small event. What can happen is that it's entirely possible that I come off as aloof, disinterested, or otherwise (expletive-adjective). I might appear self-important or harboring any number of unpleasant motives. I know because it has at times seemed that some of those ahead of me were like that with me on occasion. It's really easy to misread motives, and I've had to backtrack and eat crow (privately) upon learning that I had read far too much into someone else's behaviors at these events.

I've sort of made it a rule that if the primary reason I would want to be at some social function is business or linked to ambition, I stay home. It's not the only reason I might not attend something, surely (movie night with the wife? Yeah that's won out many a time). Maybe that's not very wise--ambition itself is not bad either, after all. Maybe that explains some of my career trajectory over time. I don't know. I suppose I've decided that it's more important that I attend a thing for genuinely positive, productive, constructive or otherwise peace-of-mind maintaining motives. If my main emotion is genuine excitement or interest, that's a good sign. If I'm motivated more by strategy than emotion, it's a sign that I should stay home. It's totally possible to be a strategic networker and still be gracious to others, and I think I've managed it, too. I just don't feel great. More than once I've realized that I misread my motives in the middle of being somewhere. I've often taken that opportunity to simply exit stage left and go home.

It's all a bit odd because networking is one of those generally unspoken-of aspects of some businesses. Perhaps in more pure business settings, networking can be more explicit, with networking functions being held unapologetically. But in art circles, I've seen that it becomes the sort of thing most of us do without wanting to admit we're doing it. We certainly don't want to seem like it's what we're doing, explicitly, and those who do come off that way are liable to be judged a bit. So, I try as much as possible to ensure that I have another honestly primary motive, and let the rest fall where it may. I often make the point of not bringing up work with Art Directors in social situations, often because I genuinely want to just spend time with the person, sometimes because I don't want to have business, again, forefront in my mind when I'm dealing with people. I can contact them during business hours, after all, regarding business. Again, perhaps I'm just overly sensitive (probably). I've seen plenty of artists do both, and even get work by bringing up work in social environments. I don't begrudge them that.

Regardless, if I've ever come off poorly to any other illustrator or professional--not even necessarily younger ones, but peers who are just not part of the Rings I'm focusing on at a given function, even unconsciously, I apologize. Not my intention. Every friend I've really made I've not made in big groups, but usually through much smaller interactions.

Coming back from a convention like this can be a little overwhelming. There's the practical side of unpacking, getting the studio back in order, and getting back in the flow of work. There's the part where you've had your aesthetic kicked in the groin by the killer art presented by others, and you're wondering how to apply the things you've learned. But I find it always takes some days to just process the social side of things--the conversations, the interactions, the communication that happened or didn't happen among different Rings simultaneously. I arrive home and my wife usually says something like, "Well, tell me about it!" I find more often than not I just say, "I can't. I'll process the stories and dole them out in time."

Holiday Sale: World of Warcraft Original Art

(If all you need to know is that art is on sale, then click here to see the list!)

It's been some months since I've played World of Warcraft--my main exists in suspended animation at level 80, wondering if I'll ever pick up the Cataclysm expansion and continue on...not any time soon, anyway.

The World of Warcraft Trading Card Game probably has a lifespan that is tied to the videogame. And most videogames do not have a long lifespan, though WoW's has been longer than most. So I know that some years from now, art based on the game will be a quaint artifact, a fond memory of a bygone era. For me, art is about the art--whenever I've collected original art, I've rarely asked where the art was published. But for those of you who might like some World of Warcraft art in particular (or just like my art in general), now is a great time--through the end of the year, I've marked down all my World of Warcraft original paintings. I don't put original art on sale very often, so it's a great opportunity.

There are only a few World of Warcraft pieces that remain in my Artwork galleries. So where are the rest? Welcome to update #2 this week: I've added a World of Warcraft section to my Back Catalog of Original Art. So, check it out and remember--when you finally leave Azeroth forever, the artwork will remain! Sale prices are indicated on each painting's page.

Not a fan of the WoW imagery? Well, that same Back Catalog has a listing of older Magic: the Gathering artwork as well...though it's not on sale....

This post will self-destruct on 1/1/12, but the art will remain at the Back Catalog link, located in the upper-left of the blog for easy access.

7 Years of Exits

Greetings from Altoona, PA where I am attending 2011's Illuxcon show.

Oh dear, we've just crossed the seven-year mark for Exit Within. My, my, how time flies.

So, a sort of State of the Blog address seems to be in order. Here are a few thoughts:

1.) I would say that readership this past year, in particular, has been higher than ever. For a long time I didn't care to let the world know this blog existed. These days, I've pushed it out there a bit more. Many of you come from posts on Facebook or Google Plus, for instance.

2.) I expect that no one should want to go back and read 7 years of blog posts. If there are 3 people on this planet who have read every single post (including myself), I'll be incredibly surprised.

3.) That said, there's a lot of stuff buried in seven years of blog posts. I mean, a certain percentage of what I've written has to have some legs, some shelf-life. It might not be a high percentage, but there's gotta be some. Starting this year, I'm going to make a regular series out of reprinting some old blog posts for the benefit of the many new visitors we've gotten this past year or so. Not often--not to worry, mostly it'll be fresh stuff still. I'm thinking once every other month or something. I will take the opportunity to update each post a little, as needed (and will append updates separately so those who have read the posts before can just read the update, if they like). Also, I will repair the annoying habit I had of never capitalizing anything those first few years. As it is, I've begun making amends on that awhile back--when I've linked back to an older post, I've tried to make sure the post was corrected. I might still dislike capitalization (namely, out of laziness), but I'm sure you disliked the fruits of that laziness more.

4.) I've made a habit of posting regular series of things. I hope they are somewhat interesting. Creating blog content while managing the rest of life does take effort, and I've never pretended I was up for more than once a week. I try to balance out wordy, thoughtful posts, with art-centered stuff. Somewhere along the way I also stopped posting more random things. I suppose I value your time and readership much more now that I'm seeking it out.

5.) I once again renew my promise to keep politics off this blog. I admit there have been momentary, resisted temptations, but I still maintain that you do not need a fantasy illustrator telling you what's what in the area of politics. I'm sure you get an overwhelming number of opinions from equally random persons, often without you asking. I will not add to the chorus. So you can continue to rest assured that you will be able to exit within this blog when the political avalanche is getting you down, and know that I'll provide some artwork escape or some hopefully stimulating conversation about the loftier realms of art.

However you found me, thank you for stopping by to visit, as often as you do. My efforts cannot demand your time or interest, and so I am greatly appreciative of both in a world with nearly infinite choices.

Onward to year 8!