Descriptive Essay on my Self-portraiture.
Part of Project 1 – writing portfolio for Design subject ComDI.
It is often taken for granted that such a lean, meagre object can do wonders in the realm of art and everyday life, yet it suffers the fate of being strewn about like a discarded toy, or even becoming a handy object to complement a two-pin plug into the power socket with. Made of cheap materials: graphite, soft wood, malleable metal and a worthless stub of rubber, its abundance signifies of it being overused but under priced. So very cheap — is there still value in it? Very frequently, it humbly subjects itself to under the razor-sharp edge of a sharpener, refining its blunt, rusty tip until a fresh layer is exposed, as though a butterfly quietly emerging from a cocoon. Unnoticed, until it is beckoned for, until there is a need.
My self-portraiture makes up the only piece of artwork in the newly bought A4 sketchbook. Paper quality is thick but fine, reflecting a dull sheen of pure white from areas that have not been etched with greyish traces of 2B, HB and H pencil lead. An epitome of a single left hand working at a pencil sketch of a portrait – apparently at the beginning stages of rendering – on a piece of paper taped onto an empty plane. Or you may also view it as a wall. There is a relatively strong sense of simplicity at first glance, however, complexity when under careful observation and the elements present are taken into account; there is more to the superficiality, to what meets the eye. As the whole picture, we see that it is a sketch using a pencil; a sketch depicting a pencil; a sketch depicting a pencil being used to sketch. Being conceptual as it is, the main idea continually revolves around the chosen object – that is, none other than – the pencil.
While it is not up to anyone to decipher, I hence see the obligation to define. Well, you may ask, in what way does the pencil mirror my personality? Why pencil? Firstly, as the most accurate representation I deem from the list of “Humble Masterpieces”, the pencil carries certain characteristics resembling some of mine and is elemental – what I cannot do without. The symbolism of the pencil is evident in its ability to enable freedom of expression, guided in motion by encouraging wings – the human hand – to catch thoughts from the air and pin them on paper, and I daydream just as well. There, a form of transmission, and translation. Through the endless possibilities of defying gravity, connecting with imagination and thus, ultimately transforming the impossible into the possible. One thing I feel strongly for is the importance of NOT conforming – trends, fashion and all. After all, individuality is seen in ones’ style; I live to defy convention.
Here I hold my own ‘specimen’ of the humble masterpiece, something I had fished out from the remains of a party bag aged with time. Of scanty weight and a magenta not exactly enticing, this made-in-China product has somewhat lost its foothold in recent days, giving up its position to the giant market of art and mechanical pencils as well as the demand for erasers of higher quality. Though uncommon, it is reminiscent of my childhood days and for a sentimental person like me, unearthing past memories can be so endearing at times. Just as how sensitive – even over-sensitive – a person I am, every stroke endeavoured is wholly dependent on the pressure exerted and the angle, from which a mark is made. Meticulous for details in all aspects of the aesthetics, I am seen as a perfectionist who strives to refine my creations to the fullest.
On the contrary, a major flaw I have wanted to rid myself of is the fear of making mistakes. I even hate it – because honestly, I detest making changes. What an abhorrent excuse, you may think. From experience, this sort of rubber, after being in contact with a pencil mark too deep, has a tendency to leave behind a hideous streak of maroon that lingers stubbornly. So, do I make use of the eraser attached? This you will find out, if you look at the eraser stub in the self-portraiture; it is clean and not grubby.
In a self-portraiture, one will expect to find the artist in his/her own art; likened to the paradox Small (1996) pointed out, that is to “use disguise to reveal identity.” The concept of a drawing within a drawing appeals nicely to me and unlike conventional self-portraits which depict artists in a wholesome and exquisite manner, I have done away with all other facial features, to disguise, save my eyebrows and eyes – the former to portray emotion, the latter as a window to the soul, which means to have my identity revealed. With a glint in my eye, the other one shut lightly, this is how I see the world. Of all things, eyes cannot lie, therefore enabling the viewer – through this limpid, opened window – to gain an insight to the real me.
Hands, are important symbols in my intention for this self-portraiture. I am by nature a right-hander, hence there seems no appropriate reason my artwork should depict a left hand, unless of course there is the presence of a mirror. In a strongly lit environment, dark shadows are cast. Devoid of colours, this imperfect (by my own standards) self-portraiture, basically what you see, is the exact posture I observed from the hand-held mirror. As I run my fingers across the artwork with the slightest touch, for the fear of smudging, the hand and pencil are 2D images after all; flat and formless. How deceiving images can be.
Attesting the effort and time that has gone into this, I can proudly label it as my very own humble masterpiece. When confidence fails, when time calls for a change, why not – to appreciate what the Maker has created you as – look for another way of seeing oneself? That is, though the mirror.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Small, A. (1996). ESSAYS IN SELF-PORTRAITURE. New York. Peter Lang Publishing, INC.
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Narrative Essay on the learning journey through Project 1.
Noontime felt so much like the best time to idle around, yet on an entirely disparate circumstance, a class was (unfortunately, with no official lunch breaks whatsoever) scheduled. ComDI – not that I knew at that time what it denoted – which would last for a whole month. Entering the class DG28-03-46, a warm ambience greeted me as I took what was ahead; chairs positioned in a random array and the sunlit carpeted floor conjoining transparent glass windows that overlooked the school compound. Along with majority of the previous class, we were all set on the path for a series of unknown lights ahead.
Somewhat like a mini-lecture it was, Lucinda – a quick-witted and eloquent lady – took up the role as our lecturer for the subject. It was not until the binded textbook reached my hands that I came to realisation that we were going to read a core subject entitled “Communicating Design Ideas” which, she covered in her introductory session, was all about Language, writing and communication. Seeing her confidence, in a way, shook my own, because I knew at that point of time the standard was going to be high, and I would have a hard time catching up, especially with the in-depth study of the English Language. From the 45-minute video Lucinda screened and the objectives of the lessons, already it was apparent that from then on we were on our own; no spoon feeding from teachers, no more copying (plagiarism matters, indeed) and lastly, no excess time to spare. Not anymore, for it would be independent learning we undergo; intensive and rapid in pace.
Surely, I must admit, these were more than enough to keep me at bay. Moreover, the thought of beginning a project on the very first lesson was certainly not a motivating add-on. Weighed down by the task of completing a self-portraiture within a day, browsing through the 122 Humble Masterpieces in search of a single, if not a few, objects unrelated, at first glance, to myself was never an easy task, not forgetting to mention the process of brainstorming for words that describe me. It certainly took some effort in reflecting about my own behaviour and character. Initially I chose items like the glass bottle, scotch tape and flat bottomed brown paper grocery bag, but eventually filtered down to the Wooden Pencil with Eraser as the possibilities of linking it up with my personality gradually dawned upon me. Having to battle with headaches and race with Time (it was already 5am), I was terribly worried about the final outcome, mostly due to incompetence in my rusty sketching skills.
Through the self-portraiture, I planned to portray the impression of my self-reflexivity. There was the main problem that I faced; my lack of confidence due to the fact that I am unable to express my ideas well verbally. Images of the past failures with presentation skills flashed and haunted me. This concern I reflected on and decided to turn it into another way of perception – having this acknowledgement, the more I should improve on the means with which I am comfortable, and it is through Art. Agreeing to Small’s (1996) opinion of self-portraiture being a “multi-faceted mirror”, it also reveals “greater and more varied aspects” in a way that through eyes of the audience, each has his own interpretation and inference with respect to the work and hence incurring different point of views from different individuals.
Completing my self-portraiture was a timely success; the process of finding the right words for the writing portfolio had me hooked onto the dictionary. I still am, and the journey all these while – though it is not that long – has been truly remarkable as I found myself emerging from my comfort zone to meet deadlines and experiment new aspects such as researching thick art history volumes for citation. Although individual presentations still create butterflies in my stomach, I do try to calm myself down and deliver all my points clearly to the audience. In believing the extensive boundaries, I have learnt through writing, communicating and reading to embrace Language and its expressions, thereafter advance into the greater depths of life.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Small, A. (1996). ESSAYS IN SELF-PORTRAITURE. New York. Peter Lang Publishing, INC.
