Iron Man

I drew the above tonight. Click on it and you’ll see the whole picture. Hadn’t drawn like this in 15 years. I’d found some old school supplies from college—markers, pencils, sketchpad—and decided I should try to have fun drawing again.

When I was a boy, I would get sick a lot. During those times, I’d be inside the house, usually drawing or reading, or playing the piano. If I was sick, I usually didn’t have the strength to sit up and play the piano, or my eyes would strain too much from reading so many words. But I was able to draw. Drawing made me forget how sick I was.

Even as a kid, drawing helped me get into that zone that I later realized was bliss. Because of the demand for concentration, I had to clear my mind of everything except the task of making the picture right. There was no bullshit in drawing, at least not at that age. I didn’t have to please anyone except myself. I either got it right or I started over with another blank sheet of paper. When I was happy with the work, I’d scotch tape or funtack the drawing on my bedroom wall. That was my reward to myself for doing something good.

Since then, the world seems to have gotten more complicated. There are more obligations and commitments, more logistics and regulations, more preparing and arranging, more complications and convolutions. Just knowing that somebody else will be reading this entry will probably get in the way of my writing it the way it should be written.

Maybe this is why I’ve decided to start drawing again, just for fun. To clean out the clutter that’s been building up in my mind. Maybe I’m doing this to get back to that simple act of imagining something and putting it down on paper. Imagination can make a sick boy feel better. Imagination can make a sick boy feel invincible.

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Related Link: The Invincible Iron Man