Notes from the Underground Part Three — Drawing, Without Knowing (Or, The Art in the Doodle)
In a nutshell, our field of vision is mostly constituted by light-sensitive rods, rods that are connected in groups to nerves that carry the signal to the brain. Only a relatively small area on our retina is equipped with cones, cones that are connected individually to nerves and able to convey a far greater amount of detail (and colour) to the brain.
There's a lot more to this: for example, the rods do not respond to/transmit colour, while the cones do. The rods are connected in groups to nerves and can respond to/transmit movement far more than the cones can, but they cannot provide much image "resolution;" only the cones can.
Most people are very amazed when, through very simple experiments, they come to realize how tiny our central area of vision is (the only one that provides for sharp image differentiation and colour) in the context of our whole field of vision.
I am not positing here that all there is to vision is based on physiology, but I am finding this to be a good place to start, and will try to show in the next article(s) how much the basic "center-periphery" (dynamic) structure also applies to "higher" functions.
To start paying attention to the enormous qualitative differences between our central and peripheral vision can be a great place from which to begin looking into "seeing without knowing," a gentle beginning that is nevertheless one reliable place from which to try to see beyond/through the walls of perception (no doors yet!;-) by which we allow ourselves to be trapped so readily.
To try to implement -- in one's drawing -- the qualitative differences one notices between central and peripheral vision is the beginning of a journey that could yield many frustrations, and many discoveries.
It is fair for me to remind the reader of what I said in "Part 1 -- Animation, Prozac or Kyosaku?": "This inherent style is the intrinsic 'flavor' of one's continuous and inevitable failure to succeed at capturing reality."
What I am proposing here does not lead to greater "control," it may make it possible to connect with another mode of experience or more precisely, with a greater awareness of how our experience is taking place.
The next article will look at this in depth, and talk about how it so often is the case that, in our better work, we draw with, for example, charcoal in hand on a paper placed before us, but almost invariably, the better (the "real?") work is born as if it had been done behind our back by a charcoal that is attached to our elbow.
How is it that, so often, our better work is done without our being aware of its genesis?
How is it that, so very often, "our" better work is done as if it had been made by an "other?"
How does "the other" come into play when I am trying to draw how "I" see?
Those are the questions we will spend time with in part #4.
One reminder: if drawing is basic to animation, perception is what drives drawing. . .
Jean Detheux is an artist who, after several decades of dedicated work with natural media, had to switch to digital art due to sudden severe allergies to paint fumes. He is now working on ways to create digital 2D animations that are a continuation of his natural media work. He has been teaching art in Canada and the U.S., and has works in many public and private galleries.
























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