Monday, November 10, 2008

My Drawing of The Wound

The very first comic book convention I ever attended was when I was 18 years old, and it was probably at one of those old Hotels across from Madison Square Garden on Seventh Avenue in NYC, where the Big Apple convention is held nowadays.

I attended it with my then-boyfriend, who was a comics geek and a very nice young man. We were both Illustration Majors. He insisted I go and there was a drawing contest being held that he encouraged me to join. I entered and I actually won like third place or something! I was shocked and pleased, and made me think I could do something with drawing after all ...

I remember my prize package contained three things, but the only one I was completely jazzed about was the 45 disk of the old Doctor Who Theme. I played it when I got home, but it skipped something awful near the end. It must have been damaged. That bummed me out. But I guess it'd be fair to say that my TV/Movie soundtrack love was started/encouraged then.

Every once in a looooooooooong while I will remember that drawing. Like this weekend.

The drawing itself was a heavily penciled illustration of a woman in a flowing robe. She kneeling but sitting on her heels, falling back, looking up to the heavens. There is a large pole that stabs through her heart and anchors her into the ground. She is holding it, trying to pull free. Her face is a combination of shock, pain and betrayal.

Unbeknownst to me at the time, the first version of the drawing would be prophetic in a way. I was so naïve when I had drawn it! Later on, it would represent me quite vividly. Me, torn through those things that anchored me to this very physical life, while yet crying up to God "What have I done?"

I remember this drawing of mine on rare occasions. I've lost the original, and have repainted her once since, as a 2 tone watercolor. I'm considering making a third version. But I am torn between expressing the pain as a piece yet again or letting go of the pain and not recreating the image at all. Why should I give homage to that searing hurt? Again?

The watercolor version specifically conveyed the betrayal of a close friend. A beloved friend. As I get older I try to be kinder when this happens, be more forgiving. After all, I've been considerably stupid in my youth. I've been careless with people's feelings. Sometimes friends let us down without realizing it. There are times, too, when we have to see their actions are louder than words and they just don't know what they've said to us.

The way I see it now, you can forgive them, as you should, but there is no need to recreate the circumstances where they can repeat that act again. You can forgive the accidental trespasser, but kindly show them out, and lock the gate.

This pain this time around at least is work-related, so it will pass. For that I am glad.

It was just completely unexpected. And dang if it doesn't leave a mark.

No comments: