Even though it scares me like mad, I am sorely tempted to sign up for Illustration Boot Camp at the Norman Rockwell Museum. "Boot Camp" implies some kind of torturous hazing, being yelled at, being pushed beyond sane limits, with the prospect of coming out bettered, right? And bettered is good.
It's quite a drive--a little over an hour from home--not far enough away to stay at a hotel (and frankly, if I had to pay for a hotel and restaurant meals for the week, it would be way more out of my price range than it already is.) but too close to home not to take under serious consideration. And the price seems a downright bargain, given that it's five whole days of instruction.
One reason I'm hesitant: I don't draw all that well. Would it behoove me to forget about Boot Camp and instruction, and just keep working on drawing from life, and boot camp it in the future?
But then...my head snaps the other way...and...it's not like I'm planning to be an illustrator who gets editorial work. I just want to improve my skills, and a challenge like this would be valuable.
Oh, to be decisive.
I certainly can't argue with the instructor (Lynn Pauley)'s mission statement. This might actually be the factor that tips the scales, because since Mass MoCA, I've been finding artists' statements just too painful to read. They've been leaving me feeling...like I've just subjected myself to multitudinous paper cuts. "I am fascinated by the juxtaposition of light and [insert whatever]...." Argh! "To make authentic, compelling pictures that matter" is succinct and beautiful. I could learn from Lynn Pauley.