Years ago I had decided that I was going to become an artist.
I was tired of my job. As my organization grew many of my responsibilities where slowly going away and I was growing bored with my job. I wanted to move into a more creative career. One day hot summer day, sitting at the pool, I took out a notebook and wrote down all of the things I liked to do. I then created some job titles based on those things. I ranked them by how good I thought I was. I then did a bit of a reality check into how hard I thought it would be to break into the field. After an afternoon of writing notes I decided my best bet was to become an artist.
Of course I had to get better. I had already been taking classes so I started taking even more classes. I also started to carry around a sketchpad. Anytime i had a spare minute I’d draw what I saw around me, sometimes who.
Before too long my mind moved on. I started to study classical music composition with a passion. I started carrying a voice recorder, which I’d hum in ideas. The voice recorder was eventually replaced with a phone. But then, of course, writing took the place of music and… well, here we are.
I have stacks of sketchbooks hidden away. Every so often i go through and look at some of the drawings. The drawings on this page were all done the same year, 2002. I drew them all from life, not from a photo. Do you know where I was in each?