In Outline

A few months ago, I had my first try on making my own portrait. I'm not exactly very good in drawing people, or rather, REAL people. I never get to copy them right down pat to look like, well, them. It's one frustration of mine! But I went on ahead and tried my luck on drawing myself (It doesn't really quite capture what I look like - but that's not point!), and the finished work looked like this:

"Me" - UniPin Fine Line Water and Fade Proof Pigment Ink, Reeves Watercolor, Photoshop

Then I stumble upon this work's outline/pen-and-ink-only sketch (scanned) jumbled somewhere between my embarrassing picture files and year-old English paper files. I believe I scanned it just in case any art disaster happened. It looked like this:

"Me" outline - Uni Pin Fine Line Water and Fade Proof Pigment Ink

Now look back up to the final version of this work. And then scroll back down. Scroll up, and then down again.

Okay... so what, Kat? It's just an uncolored version of the final one.

That's exactly the point.

Every art work always reflects the artist. Everything I've done has always felt like a part of me. And - sue me for the cliche if you want - but I like relating to whatever I draw.

So now I stare at these two versions of the same work - two versions of me. It's really dumbfounding to know that all I can think of in doing so is...

Wouldn't it be so much simpler to merely be black and white?

Sometimes, it undoubtedly would.