Now why in G-d's name would I take it upon myself to start drawing portraits of people? This question was running through my head all day today as I sat on a park bench in Central Park, along the row that leads from the corner of Central Park South East on up to the Zoo. Many days when I'm working you can find me sitting there on my lunch hour, with all the tourists walking by and the lady who feeds the pigeons that have perched on her arms and shoulders and some guy selling animals and such he's sculpted out of wire. Along the length of the row of park benches there'll also be about seven or eight guys (mostly guys) drawing portraits and caricatures or up on their feet trying to convince someone to sit and let them draw them. For money, of course. I'm not sure of the going rate but I imagine it's up around ten or twenty dollars.

I imagined that someone would come up and ask me the question above and I don't think that anyone really did. To think of it, actually several people did. Usually they'd ask first if I was an art student and I'd tell them no, I'm not. Sometimes they'd just come out and ask why, since my sign clearly read to all who passed PORTRAITS—No Talent Whatsoever—50¢ suggested donation. The sign mostly got two kinds of reactions: smiles, often preceded by a mild stupefaction, and no reaction at all. I'm glad that people thought that something about the whole thing was funny, I certainly did. The people who had no reaction—and I mean walking by, reading the sign as they went, and having no visible change of expression whatsoever—are the ones who mystify me. Maybe like some New Yorkers, they've seen it all and nothing phases them anymore. Who can say?

But why, David, why? Isn't that the question you've been saying you were going to answer for three paragraphs now? Well I suppose it is. As I've mentioned, I take my lunch with some regularity on that stretch of Central Park, and have had opportunity to observe the portrait artists at work. Not that portrait artists are limited to this one stretch of Central Park. In fact they can be found scattered throughout the five boroughs, practically anywhere where there are people passing by and a place to sit. So I've seen plenty of portrait artists at work, and I've seen quite some variation in the quality of these portraits. Thing is, some of these people are making a living drawing portraits of people where it seems as though there is one or two things just not quite right. Usually it's in the eyes. Some of the drawings look as though silly putty was laid down on a newsprint picture of one of these people and then removed, and then stretched slightly. After having seen a number of such portraits, a little voice popped up in me, one which I am usually able to reason with or ignore. "I could do better than that," said the little voice. I recognized this as a fallacy right off the bat, because I know full well that I can't draw a straight line to save my life, never mind an accurate portrait. But then I allowed the voice to have a little more suggestive power. What if I were to give it a shot, actually try drawing? What would happen?

Firstly I was concerned that the other portrait artists would take offense, think that I was mocking them or taking away valued customers. But my intentions were never malicious, even though there was that initial "I could do better" impulse. Even if I didn't know it then I surely know now that I can't draw better than any of the portrait artists I've seen. As far as taking away valuable business, I don't think that anyone who is looking for a "real" or accurate portrait of themselves is going to come to me.

So here are some photos of some of the portraits that I've drawn and their subjects. As of this writing I've only drawn nine portraits in two days (my co-worker Eric having been drawn on our lunch hour on day one) although I intend to continue. I'm curious to see if the accuracy of my portraits will improve, or what, if anything, will happen. As I draw new portraits I'll continue to post them on this site, so long as people will let me post the photos I take of them and their portraits.

My thanks to all those who have had 50¢, a sense of humor and the time to sit for me. In spite of the fact that my portraits may not seem to be the most flattering renditions of you, I have much appreciated your letting me stare at you for a little while.

D.C.
9/14/03

Addendum

There is one more thing that I had thought about throughout the day and also as I got closer to actually executing this project (buying the materials, etc.). I was reminded as I often am of an essay that I read when I was in college by Jean-Paul Sartre, the noted French Existentialist. Regrettably I cannot recall the title of the essay, although I believe the thrust of it, or at least what I've retained, dealt with how it is that we go about defining ourselves based on titled roles or categories. He used the example of a man who waits tables and begins to think of himself or allows himself to be boundaried by notions of himself as a "waiter." While it is true that I am a poet, and make my living as a graphic artist, and have at other times been a runner, a jazz lover or an asshole, letting myself be boundaried or defined by these titles is something that I would like to avoid. I think, perhaps presumptuously, that many of the people who initially registered some kind of surprise at my sign, at what I was doing, sitting in the position of a portrait artist when I had no reason to think that I might be a portrait artist could not imagine themselves stepping into that role, perhaps because that isn't "like them" to do such a thing. While I am no perfectly uninhibited individual (far from it) I take pleasure from and am most pleased with myself when I take the risk of putting myself into an unfamiliar place, allowing myself to find further expression of my (hopefully) indefinable and ever-expanding self.