My Dad passed away 16 years ago today. I don’t know how much of the drawing “talent”/desire/proclivity or whatnot is passed down in families, but he was inclined to doodle earlier in life. Though by the time I came a long I can only remember a handful of times he drew and most of those were drawings of Donald Duck.
I think most everyone draws when they’re children, but usually seem to stop by high school if they’re not really into it. I’ve always thought it was odd that dad both continued way past that point, but then stopped later. He joined the Army when he was 18 and had this sketchbook–I know because he stamped his name and serial number about a hundred times on the cover. Inside I imagine he tried to escape the routine of Army life, which he said he never cared for.
He was a very precise guy. When he hung a picture, out came the tape measure and level. It was in his nature and I think inclined him to be adept at lettering. Just not spelling. He was excellent at math and horrible at spelling.
His Army time was in the early 1960s, before Vietnam (which he was never called up for) and right in the middle of the space race. Between the drawing of the bulky tv console/furniture unit above and the rocket ships below, a future historian would have no problem placing this in its proper decade.
By the time I was born his drawing skills were limited to deliniations of floor plans. He only went to college a few years but worked his way up through the architectural/construction industry. The lack of education would eventually cap his advancement, though I’m pretty confident in retrospect he had through experience acquired just as much knowledge as anyone with a degree. I still have the blueprints he drew for an addition to our house, though it was never built. I imagine the funds were never there.
Years after he put away this sketchbook, his youngest son –the compulsive drawer– would find it and draw the bossest car ever.