One of the most heart dropping moments that an artist can have is when an artist is in the middle of drawing a still life... and it gets moved. It's called life, and it happens.
It is heart dropping because you realize that you either have to A) change a large part of your drawing, B) go against what one was taught and lie (just fill in the shades and details as if the still life matches the drawing), or C) call it quits.
This scenario just happened to me, at 8:30pm in my tiny little bedroom. In all my pride I just want to lay on my floor and cry until the problem fixes itself.
I realize that my still life is messed up and that I have some serious perspective (which is foundational) problems with my drawing. So what do I do? A, B or C?
Option A will take tons of time and energy on a project that I've already spent 5 hours on,
B will give me feelings of guilt and realistically won't look that great finished,
while C will feel like failure.
There are really no good choices so I make mine based on three things - purpose, effort, and desire.
My original intention for this drawing, was simply to practice my drawing skills. There was no larger idea or purpose for drawing some antique cameras on dishes. The only idea in the piece was that I had brownies on dishes as if they are ready to eat. Puny right?
Honestly, the drawing looks pretty sad right now compared to my usual standard. That's because it is still in the awkward "adolescence" stage as Professor Callendar would call it. However, since I am out of practice it took me a bit longer than usual to get to adolescence (say, two hours longer). At this rate, a couple more hours of work and once I have the shades and details down it could be considered a full grown adult. In drawing, I judge effort by time and in this drawing I'm looking at at least five more hours of work.
I asked myself if I really want to continue, if I want to keep working on this project to possibly make it turn out well or not. How badly do I want the final project and is it worth spending hours on? My answer was no, I'd rather move onto a project that I have more interest in.
So I decided to quit.
For some, quitting may seem like the obvious choice, but in my vocabulary, quitting is equivalent to failure. It's like purposely failing. Quitting is humbling and embarrassing. Since I quit, I can move onto other projects. Instead of looking back at how misfortune came and how I failed, I am going to learn what I can and move forward.
The main lesson that I learned is that it's okay to fail and give up sometimes, although I don't plan on making it a habit.