Drawn

Eh.

Attempting to confer on one’s subjective experiences and habits the mantle of definitiveness via allusion to historicity and mystical mumbo jumbo is shallow and self-indulgent. You could have summarized the entire “article” as “I like using my brush,” or even “I prefer my tools of choice.”

The computer isn’t necessary. Neither is the paintbrush, the pencil or paper. All that is necessary is some form of surface and some form of inscription – including transient forms that disappear shortly after being made, like projected light, sand or a finger on a dirty/foggy window.

I have a distinct feeling I would not like her books.

Eh.

Attempting to confer on one’s subjective experiences and habits the mantle of definitiveness via allusion to historicity and mystical mumbo jumbo is shallow and self-indulgent. You could have summarized the entire “article” as “I like using my brush,” or even “I prefer my tools of choice.”

The computer isn’t necessary. Neither is the paintbrush, the pencil or paper. All that is necessary is some form of surface and some form of inscription – including transient forms that disappear shortly after being made, like projected light, sand or a finger on a dirty/foggy window.

I have a distinct feeling I would not like her books.

I don’t think she argued that you should be using a brush, too. I don’t think she argued anything, really – she just related how she likes to work and why. Doesn’t seem to warrant the aggressive response, you know?

I don’t think she argued that you should be using a brush, too. I don’t think she argued anything, really – she just related how she likes to work and why. Doesn’t seem to warrant the aggressive response, you know?

The point, I think, is in trying what’s outside the norm. Seems to be a creative lesson here for all of us. Personally, I use dry erase markers and write and draw on my shower walls, but maybe I’ll try a brush tomorrow.

The point, I think, is in trying what’s outside the norm. Seems to be a creative lesson here for all of us. Personally, I use dry erase markers and write and draw on my shower walls, but maybe I’ll try a brush tomorrow.

FYI Oluseyi: Lynda Barry’s work is not really anything like that essay. Your distinct feeling may not be accurate.

http://dir.salon.com/story/mwt/comics/barry/2004/09/10/imagination_stoppers/
http://dir.salon.com/story/mwt/comics/barry/2004/06/01/room_mothers/

I appreciate your entertaining curmudgeonly attitude however.

Barry’s comics have an undertone of insecurity about them, and this is very relevant to why she chose the brush over the computer. The idea is that making the commitment to something indelible was an important step for her. Note that she could also be talking about a pen, but not say a pencil.

There is something Zen about accepting an imperfect result from a permanent medium… although there is an interesting contradiction with the lesson of impermanence as taught by the Buddha.

FYI Oluseyi: Lynda Barry’s work is not really anything like that essay. Your distinct feeling may not be accurate.

http://dir.salon.com/story/mwt/comics/barry/2004/09/10/imagination_stoppers/
http://dir.salon.com/story/mwt/comics/barry/2004/06/01/room_mothers/

I appreciate your entertaining curmudgeonly attitude however.

Barry’s comics have an undertone of insecurity about them, and this is very relevant to why she chose the brush over the computer. The idea is that making the commitment to something indelible was an important step for her. Note that she could also be talking about a pen, but not say a pencil.

There is something Zen about accepting an imperfect result from a permanent medium… although there is an interesting contradiction with the lesson of impermanence as taught by the Buddha.

Hmm. I think Barry needs to try out a Wacom.

Personally, I use the Wacom & Photoshop to work on sketches in a similar manner as I would on paper with a pencil (and tracing paper), but that’s just the process for me to work through ideas.

I’m no Zen master, but I would think the singling out of what really is just another tool is kind of short-sighted. I find the infinite canvas of a Photoshop document and the ability for my tools to disappear – allowing me to focus on creating – far more liberating.

Hmm. I think Barry needs to try out a Wacom.

Personally, I use the Wacom & Photoshop to work on sketches in a similar manner as I would on paper with a pencil (and tracing paper), but that’s just the process for me to work through ideas.

I’m no Zen master, but I would think the singling out of what really is just another tool is kind of short-sighted. I find the infinite canvas of a Photoshop document and the ability for my tools to disappear – allowing me to focus on creating – far more liberating.

> The problem with writing on a computer was that I could delete anything I felt unsure about. This meant that a sentence was gone before I even had a chance to see what it was trying to become.

Implication: the impermanence of digital technology (as opposed to, say, the user’s dissatisfaction and desire for immediate perfection) prevents “exploratory” writing and drawing.

> Some studies show that for children, handwriting and stories are intertwined. The very motion of writing by hand encourages creativity. The same is true for drawing. It’s only later in life that action and intent part ways.

Implication: drawing with physical, natural media is more creative.

> As it turns out, people have been aware of the power of the paintbrush for over two thousand years. Brush, ink, and Buddhism are all bound together. The history of brush and ink in Asia cannot be studied without encountering the Buddha, who long ago traveled, via brush and ink, across China to Japan. He crossed entire centuries to my studio that day.

Implication: your pansy computers have only been around for less than a century, while my paintbrush has been around over two millennia, and has the blessings of Buddha!

.

My manner may be more direct and sterile, but I think the *content* of my argument is on par with Lynda as far as giving credence to the opposing position. YMMV, that’s why it’s called the Internet :-)

> The problem with writing on a computer was that I could delete anything I felt unsure about. This meant that a sentence was gone before I even had a chance to see what it was trying to become.

Implication: the impermanence of digital technology (as opposed to, say, the user’s dissatisfaction and desire for immediate perfection) prevents “exploratory” writing and drawing.

> Some studies show that for children, handwriting and stories are intertwined. The very motion of writing by hand encourages creativity. The same is true for drawing. It’s only later in life that action and intent part ways.

Implication: drawing with physical, natural media is more creative.

> As it turns out, people have been aware of the power of the paintbrush for over two thousand years. Brush, ink, and Buddhism are all bound together. The history of brush and ink in Asia cannot be studied without encountering the Buddha, who long ago traveled, via brush and ink, across China to Japan. He crossed entire centuries to my studio that day.

Implication: your pansy computers have only been around for less than a century, while my paintbrush has been around over two millennia, and has the blessings of Buddha!

.

My manner may be more direct and sterile, but I think the *content* of my argument is on par with Lynda as far as giving credence to the opposing position. YMMV, that’s why it’s called the Internet :-)

I didn’t think this article was anything about the tools or the creative process, but Buddhist thinking….

I didn’t think this article was anything about the tools or the creative process, but Buddhist thinking….

Wow, I can’t remember the last time people got so beligerent on this site. Why is it that Buddhism inspires so many people to violence? Maybe it should be banned, like smoking or seat-beltless driving!

I’m a big fan of Barry’s and have listened to many of the interviews she’s given about her latest book. She uses that “delete button” anecdote a lot, but not to bash technology. She uses it to talk about how her own creative process was opened up by slowing down and letting images develop: it takes time to see your own work, taking the option to instantly erase things, she says, doesn’t allow you to take that time.

In fact, ten minutes into the podcast linked to here, that anecdote is finished off with a joke, she says something like, if she had a delete button on her life, she’d only be left with like twenty minutes. That, clearly isn’t anti-technology. It’s against a kind of instant self-criticism she thinks is pretty common and she thinks prevents more people from exploring their creativity.

In that context, I think, her idea comes across more clearly. She’s worth taking the time to know, she’s on the level of Gary Panter, R. Crumb, and any other big name you can think of.

Wow, I can’t remember the last time people got so beligerent on this site. Why is it that Buddhism inspires so many people to violence? Maybe it should be banned, like smoking or seat-beltless driving!

I’m a big fan of Barry’s and have listened to many of the interviews she’s given about her latest book. She uses that “delete button” anecdote a lot, but not to bash technology. She uses it to talk about how her own creative process was opened up by slowing down and letting images develop: it takes time to see your own work, taking the option to instantly erase things, she says, doesn’t allow you to take that time.

In fact, ten minutes into the podcast linked to here, that anecdote is finished off with a joke, she says something like, if she had a delete button on her life, she’d only be left with like twenty minutes. That, clearly isn’t anti-technology. It’s against a kind of instant self-criticism she thinks is pretty common and she thinks prevents more people from exploring their creativity.

In that context, I think, her idea comes across more clearly. She’s worth taking the time to know, she’s on the level of Gary Panter, R. Crumb, and any other big name you can think of.

The point is …

Do not focus on the end result – or the “destination”. Pay attention to the “journey” itself. Keep an open mind to every step of the way. Be mindful of the experience. Whether a step feels right or wrong, let it be, and let it take you to your next step.

The idea was summarized very well in the last few sentences of Lynda’s essay.

“The picture you make is not so important. Move your brush not to make a picture, but make a picture in order to move your brush.”

The point is …

Do not focus on the end result – or the “destination”. Pay attention to the “journey” itself. Keep an open mind to every step of the way. Be mindful of the experience. Whether a step feels right or wrong, let it be, and let it take you to your next step.

The idea was summarized very well in the last few sentences of Lynda’s essay.

“The picture you make is not so important. Move your brush not to make a picture, but make a picture in order to move your brush.”

“I have a distinct feeling I would not like her books.”
Yeah, you probably wouldn’t. That’s cool-different strokes and all.

Oh, and by the way? A tiny hint: Just because you *can* use really big words, doesn’t mean you *have* to…or even should.

“I have a distinct feeling I would not like her books.”
Yeah, you probably wouldn’t. That’s cool-different strokes and all.

Oh, and by the way? A tiny hint: Just because you *can* use really big words, doesn’t mean you *have* to…or even should.

This reminds me of those awful art-school discussions on whether “process” was more important than “product.” Obviously process is crucial, but diddling around with a brush (or mouse, what have you) without arriving at a satisfactory finished image that other people can view and enjoy is not something artists can afford to do.

By all means we need time for random line-making and exploring new concepts. But when it comes time to produce a piece, best to keep the destination fixed firmly in mind.

This reminds me of those awful art-school discussions on whether “process” was more important than “product.” Obviously process is crucial, but diddling around with a brush (or mouse, what have you) without arriving at a satisfactory finished image that other people can view and enjoy is not something artists can afford to do.

By all means we need time for random line-making and exploring new concepts. But when it comes time to produce a piece, best to keep the destination fixed firmly in mind.

Lynda Barry has made her living as a cartoonist since she was 22 (that’s 30 years now) so she likely would have good advice on how to sustain success as a professional artist, but I don’t think her essay about Zen Ink Painting addresses that issue. Neither does WHAT IT IS, her new book.

These works are explicitly about creativity itself, not about producing saleable art. WHAT IT IS is explicitly for nonprofessionals who want to do something creative and are convinced creativity is something only professional artists possess.

One comic in WHAT IT IS poses this purpose of the book in a conversation between Barry and a genie that emerges from a can of pork and beans:
[In narrative form:] “If a genie offered to free you from a dull, canned life, what would you say?”
[Then LB is pictured asking, genie answering:] “Can you make me rich?” “No.” “Famous?” “No.” “Really cute?” “No.”
[Narrative:]“Would a feeling of aliveness be reason enough?”
[LB asking:]“Well, can I at least make a living from it?” “Probably not.” “Then what’s the point?”
[Narrative:] “A feeling of life being something worth living?”
[Genie answering:] “The point is — in the can or out of the can?” [WHAT IT IS, p. 140]

The book demonstrates “how creativity feels” so that nonartists can recognize it and cultivate it. It does this by working with what Barry terms “images” which she analogizes to being taken up by a memory.

Her most common example is to suggest that people tell the story of their life in terms of 10 cars. Essentially she says, “Think of a car” and then points out how specific the car you’re thinking of is by asking you questions about it. These are simple questions like where you are in relation to it, what time of day it is in this memory of the car, etc. The living quality of that memory is the thing she wants to put people in touch with.

She is demonstrating the immediacy of imagining and linking it to a faculty of mind everyone possesses. She distinguishes this from a kind of self-consciousness that prevents most people from “being in” their experience. This “being in” experience she associates with the image and with children’s play. She demystifies the creative process in this way for people who have been mystified about it.

That mystified person could be a nonprofessional seeking to add a little something to a “dull, canned life” or it could be a professional seeking to break a block, but I think it is safe to say that she is intent on helping people rediscover the play aspect of creativity rather than the aspect that can be turned to profit in art.

Such demonstrations may refer to something self-evident to artists who visit DRAWN for daily refreshment. But that they do refer to something real and accessible comes as a positive revelation to people who have felt shut off from their own creativity.

Lynda Barry has made her living as a cartoonist since she was 22 (that’s 30 years now) so she likely would have good advice on how to sustain success as a professional artist, but I don’t think her essay about Zen Ink Painting addresses that issue. Neither does WHAT IT IS, her new book.

These works are explicitly about creativity itself, not about producing saleable art. WHAT IT IS is explicitly for nonprofessionals who want to do something creative and are convinced creativity is something only professional artists possess.

One comic in WHAT IT IS poses this purpose of the book in a conversation between Barry and a genie that emerges from a can of pork and beans:
[In narrative form:] “If a genie offered to free you from a dull, canned life, what would you say?”
[Then LB is pictured asking, genie answering:] “Can you make me rich?” “No.” “Famous?” “No.” “Really cute?” “No.”
[Narrative:]“Would a feeling of aliveness be reason enough?”
[LB asking:]“Well, can I at least make a living from it?” “Probably not.” “Then what’s the point?”
[Narrative:] “A feeling of life being something worth living?”
[Genie answering:] “The point is — in the can or out of the can?” [WHAT IT IS, p. 140]

The book demonstrates “how creativity feels” so that nonartists can recognize it and cultivate it. It does this by working with what Barry terms “images” which she analogizes to being taken up by a memory.

Her most common example is to suggest that people tell the story of their life in terms of 10 cars. Essentially she says, “Think of a car” and then points out how specific the car you’re thinking of is by asking you questions about it. These are simple questions like where you are in relation to it, what time of day it is in this memory of the car, etc. The living quality of that memory is the thing she wants to put people in touch with.

She is demonstrating the immediacy of imagining and linking it to a faculty of mind everyone possesses. She distinguishes this from a kind of self-consciousness that prevents most people from “being in” their experience. This “being in” experience she associates with the image and with children’s play. She demystifies the creative process in this way for people who have been mystified about it.

That mystified person could be a nonprofessional seeking to add a little something to a “dull, canned life” or it could be a professional seeking to break a block, but I think it is safe to say that she is intent on helping people rediscover the play aspect of creativity rather than the aspect that can be turned to profit in art.

Such demonstrations may refer to something self-evident to artists who visit DRAWN for daily refreshment. But that they do refer to something real and accessible comes as a positive revelation to people who have felt shut off from their own creativity.

great article lynda!

the brush IS
and the computer WILL

great article lynda!

the brush IS
and the computer WILL

“We do not see things as they are. We see things as we are.”

That is absolutely and always true … we see everything through our own perceptions and coloured by our own delusions … and sadly too often with a closed and judgemental mind.

That essay was perfectly lovely, very buddhist and simply one womans feelings of creativity and her own truth. For some, like myself & marzipan, it resonates with us also and is found to be inspiring, for others not so much. I love the feeling of a brush and am also more creative with it then on my computer but i dont believe anyone was bashing those who prefer a computer for their work. But there is a definite primal vibration i feel through brush that i could never feel through the mouse…

“We do not see things as they are. We see things as we are.”

That is absolutely and always true … we see everything through our own perceptions and coloured by our own delusions … and sadly too often with a closed and judgemental mind.

That essay was perfectly lovely, very buddhist and simply one womans feelings of creativity and her own truth. For some, like myself & marzipan, it resonates with us also and is found to be inspiring, for others not so much. I love the feeling of a brush and am also more creative with it then on my computer but i dont believe anyone was bashing those who prefer a computer for their work. But there is a definite primal vibration i feel through brush that i could never feel through the mouse…

See the videos concerning WHAT IT IS over at marylsmagazine dot com. That’ll give you a good sense of what Lynda B. is trying to do.

See the videos concerning WHAT IT IS over at marylsmagazine dot com. That’ll give you a good sense of what Lynda B. is trying to do.