Number Two: I’m Deficient
Wait a minute, he used green?"
I stared at the screen blankly. Why was there green in the highlights of the skin? I clicked again. Blue. Then to the nose. Red. Orange. Shadows. Dark yellow. My confidence dropped to the floor.
Welcome to my world. As an artistic practice, I study figurative painters. I collect reproductions, or image of paintings and analyze them. Usually I'll study about two to three paintings a day. I save the files to an appropriately labeled folder on my hard drive, something like "Painting Studies" with a subfolder titled after the artist, such as "Rembrandt", "Sargent", or "Menzel". I then upload the image in Photoshop and began my analysis. Usually I'm studying values and color. Values are defined as lightness and darkness of colors and you probably know the definition of color. I'll operationally define color by its four principles: hue (color name), saturation (intensity ranging from pure to grey), and temperature (warm or cool).
Once I've collected images, I make color charts by using the Eyedropper tool in Photoshop. And here is where we pick up our story. Our protagonist, me, is having a serious moment during his study. You see, I am afflicted with deuteranopia, color-deficiency, or color-blindness as you may know it. I am red-green deficient, so the cones in my eyes are not as fine-tuned as most people. Long or short, there are certain color nuances that I am blind to. I might confuse greens, pinks and greys. I sometimes struggle to distinguish blues from purples and when colors are greyed down, tinted toward white or shaded near black, I cannot pick up on the subtleties. This makes flesh colors extremely challenging. The first thing we learn about skin color is that there isn't a quick formula and flesh can hold many color tones and temperature variations. And if I hear another art instructor say "just observe your subject and the answers are there", I'm done. Observing from eye isn't always a viable option for me. Nonetheless, I've decided to buckle down and do my best.
This particular portrait by a wonderful figurative painter named Zhaoming Wu was one of those difficult studies. I found greens and blues in the flesh colors. Flesh, or skin color is usually a variation of reds and red orange. Greens and blues are usually not present. Fascinating, but a gentle reminder that there may be a pocket of the painting universe that is off-limits to me. I couldn't identify the subtle greens and blues without using the Eyedropper. I wanted to stop drawing in that moment. What if I'm a hack? What if I'm in over my head with art? What if I miscolor a portrait and am ridiculed for using wrong colors? What if my own images look fine to me but are a nightmare to everyone else?
I get discouraged often, even weekly. But something keeps bringing me back to the tablet. A fascination. A burning desire to learn. I want to know how green and blue are used alongside red and orange. I want to explore how dark and light, saturated and desaturated colors affect our vision. There may very well be a pocket of the painting universe that is off-limits but I will never know that boundary until I stretch myself. Between my potential and my standing location is a universe of difference. I'll deal with my deficiency when I get to that bridge. In the meantime I'll keep drawing and experimenting. I may be a hack. Who cares? Thank goodness believing in oneself isn't a prerequisite to making art. The answer will always be "be curious even if you're not confident. Curiosity will open your eyes while confidence hides." So, I'm gonna make art.