In a carving seminar in which the instructor pushed students to use an airbrush, a classmate judged my resistance to learn the technique as fear. “I’m not afraid. I’ve tried it and it takes me out of the creative process,” I responded. He persisted in pressuring me and insisted a carving can look soft only if painted with an airbrush. I told my classmate that Bob Guge created life-like softness with a paint brush. “You’re no Bob Guge,” he said with a demeaning, critical tone.
I will never paint with the softness of Bob Guge, but he inspired me to try. My goal is to express the beauty I see in birds through a carving. Reaching for how to express that beauty can best be achieved with a brush that I hold in my hand and that touches the bird I’m creating. When I’m working on a bird, I get lost in the process. I lose my sense of time. Everything falls away except for the bird and me. I feel the connection with every stroke of my paint brush.
Controlling a metal airbrush while surrounded by the noise from the compressor that powers the airbrush generates a barrier between me and the bird. The creative impulse is obscured. The metal and noise reminds me of the mask that obscured Darth Vader’s humanity. Perhaps I could feel connected to a bird if I spent enough hours practicing with an airbrush, but I could never escape the noise, the hassle of the inevitable clogs, and the mess to clean up afterward.
Breathing is breathing, the impulse to create is the impulse to create whether the carver is a novice or a master. The joy of losing oneself in reaching to express beauty when in the grip of that impulse is the same in every carver, every artist. The journey is the same even if the end product differs in quality.
Are you a carver? Do you use an airbrush, paint brush, or both? What do you like about your choice?
I will never paint with the softness of Bob Guge, but he inspired me to try. My goal is to express the beauty I see in birds through a carving. Reaching for how to express that beauty can best be achieved with a brush that I hold in my hand and that touches the bird I’m creating. When I’m working on a bird, I get lost in the process. I lose my sense of time. Everything falls away except for the bird and me. I feel the connection with every stroke of my paint brush.
Controlling a metal airbrush while surrounded by the noise from the compressor that powers the airbrush generates a barrier between me and the bird. The creative impulse is obscured. The metal and noise reminds me of the mask that obscured Darth Vader’s humanity. Perhaps I could feel connected to a bird if I spent enough hours practicing with an airbrush, but I could never escape the noise, the hassle of the inevitable clogs, and the mess to clean up afterward.
Breathing is breathing, the impulse to create is the impulse to create whether the carver is a novice or a master. The joy of losing oneself in reaching to express beauty when in the grip of that impulse is the same in every carver, every artist. The journey is the same even if the end product differs in quality.
Are you a carver? Do you use an airbrush, paint brush, or both? What do you like about your choice?