30 Day Picture Challenge: 6

I started this challenge in the hopes that it would encourage some habits to form… habits such as daily drawing, consistent blogging and really, having some personal discipline. That being said, being sick and busy and sick of being busy will put a stopper in your bottle of motivation. At least for a bit.

The other night I realized that feeling guilty for being sick & unproductive was counter productive in itself. I needed to take a step back and take care of myself before the items on my to-do list could be considered. I took a bubble bath, breathed deeply, read a book, and felt remarkably better on the inside.

Rainer Maria Rilke’s Letters to a Young Poet scratched an itch I’d had but not been able to reach. I bought it a bit impulsively a while back, after I found an excerpt on one of the blogs I follow. The blog’s author proclaimed it something that every young artist should read and for seven dollars, I didn’t see why I shouldn’t.

Rainer Maria Rilke

So, for Day 6: A picture of a person you’d love to trade places with for a day, I pick Rainer. I thought I might be silly and just say “a boy,” or “the person on the other end of 94 during my morning commute,” but when I stumbled upon Mr. Rilke, I knew I’d found the right candidate. Note: that sketch is very unfinished (ergo ‘sketch’), and it bothers me a bit to post it. However, I felt like I needed to put something down on paper while I was feeling the way I was; I needed to capture the moment.

A man so well spoken, so talented, and so certain of where he needed to be in life surely has some things I desire for myself. Traveling abroad and writing letters from Paris, Firenze, and Viareggio certainly was a selling point as well. I don’t intend to have an affair with a woman fourteen years my senior, but I do suppose it might make for an interesting story.

“Go inside yourself. Discover the motive that bids you write; examine whether it sends its roots down to the deepest places of your heart, confess to yourself whether you would die if writing were denied you…”

“To be an artist means: not to reckon and count; to ripen like the tree which does not force its sap and stands confident in the storms of Spring without fear lest no Summer might come after. It does come. But it comes only to the patient ones, who are there as if eternity lay in front of them, so unconcernedly still and far. I am learning it daily, learning it through pains to which I am grateful: patience is all!”

“You are so young, you have not even begun, and I would like to beg you, dear Sir, as well as I can, to have patience with everything that is unsolved in your heart and to try to cherish the questions themselves, like closed rooms and like books written in a very strange tongue. Do not search now for the answers which cannot be given you because you could not live them. It is a matter of living everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, one distant day live right into the answer.”


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