A heap of failures define the success of artwork.
Color imbalances, sloppy geometry, cluttered messes...
I gave up on all of these drawings as I sought what really worked.
This is the graveyard of art, and I cherish every soul resting here, out of sight, in the dark where no one can see them. They are what give meaning to the drawings that breathe.
R.I.P.
Kinda evil looking...
Many hours not wasted
A door that never opened
Almost...
Anyone have a defibrillator?
Some were right on the edge of becoming something more than lines and colors.
I didn't know what was wrong at the time, I just knew I felt exhausted every time I worked on all of these.
The drawings didn't speak to me. I continued to force it until I lost heart.
I have a theory:
The more complex the geometry, the less variety and saturation of color the drawing will take. Simple shapes like bright, complex colors. Complex shapes do not... because their essence is contained in their architecture.
...or could it simply personal preference?
Is art purely subjective? Or are there natural laws that define beauty?
-Kabba