Becoming an 'Artist'

Good Friday all,

Over the past few weeks my wife and I have been watching a reality game show about a bunch of artists who are competing against each other to win 'something' (I'm afraid I don't think I've ever heard them say what they are competing for... I think they may be doing so, just for the sake of it).

Anyway, the other week they had a challenge to create a piece that complimented a bit of work done by a child.

Clearly a lot of these artists decided to go down the introverted, self obsessed "I'm an artist" direction, but I remember this one guy, even though the judges said he was the worst there, he said that he disagreed.

You see he had not made the work to compliment the child's work, instead he had done his work for the child. He said that the child loved it and in his eyes that made him a winner.

Well this got me thinking about my own 'art' that I create. Who do I create it for? Why do I create it?

The answers were simple. I create for myself. Not always because I necessarily want the end result, but because I want to know if I can.

This leads onto the next question: If my target audience is myself, then am I happy with my results? Am I a winner in my own eyes?

These are questions I'm not sure if I can answer in a straight forward manner. You see a lot of my models I am very unhappy with, I look at the paint job, the model workings and I feel ashamed of the model. I would go back and redo them, but I know I can't (currently) do any better.

Other times, I love the end result. My Executioner with his burlap sack covered head, Chompy with his fire-circle base and my day dreams for their pastel coloured skin.

I think the thing with me, I want to see how far I can push myself in different areas, to see if I can reach my limits.

This means that in with creations like Chapel Hill, where the end result excels over my expectations, I love it! But in comparison, Coppelius who I think looks shockingly awful, he's a disappointment to me.

In short: I love to push my style and ability to their limits. But there is nothing more demoralising than when you reach those limits.

- Your friendly neighbourhood Doctor Loxley