More ramblings from me, this time about the picture called 'TWS-Experiment IV', as it was taken around the time of the release of that single.
True to myself, I couldn't leave it alone. As the picture description says, it was first done according to a printed image on regular A4 paper that was pretty flat in tone. Then I had it properly printed and there was a huge difference (I should have done that from the start but didn't think it would matter, I guess). The drawing had to be retouched to show the correct tone. I did this over the weekend. Then another problem appeared.
Those of you who are really observant might have noticed that the uploaded image of the retouched drawing in the gallery has changed four times in three days… The reason is that the camera tends to exaggerate the contrast and the face looked rather smudged, although in reality the retouched drawing looks better than its first version. I tried (and uploaded) various tweaks but none looked good enough – then today I took about ten shots at different angles to the light and quite by chance I got a good one. Ironically, this was not corrected at all, just cropped.
So now I have an improvement over the initial drawing. Of course, the search for the best result is ultimately futile, because all works will contain mistakes or less-than-perfect elements, no matter how much effort I will put into them. But what is feasible is a happy (?) compromise at what is close to that level. A work is also compromised by practical considerations. Unlike with music, where you can always go back to your first idea if your second idea isn't better, with drawing every change is final, it negates any previous versions and stares at you with indisputable authority. It feels almost like a living thing, changing ever so slightly with each stroke, until the sum of so many infinitesimal changes is one big change. But the better a drawing is, the less likely it is to be improved, because there are very few ways to improve it and many ways to ruin it, sometimes irreparably. Do you dare to erase, not knowing what the next attempt will look like? I sometimes don't. The important thing is to know when good is good enough, but it is easy to lose sense of proportion and pay a lot of attention to what probably are invisible details and faults.
I have said elsewhere that I don't get much enjoyment out of this process. I liken it to walking along a low, narrow corridor – the going is uncomfortable, but what keeps me going is the knowledge that at the end of it is a large, nice room. When you lie down on its soft sofa and stretch your arms you tend to forget about the discomfort and how you got there. My large room is the moment that a drawing is ready, I forget about the worry and the stress and it is worth everything it took.