Do Art Contest Blog - Do Art Productions

By Jerry Moffitt

Like most of my great ideas, the idea of a Do Art contest was generated out of a round table with others. Chet and I were just starting to get momentum, having signed up five or six libraries for free workshops, attempting to get to our goal of ten. Still figuring out our own identity, let alone what to say to libraries about what we were offering, I was talking to my mother, my brother-in-law, and my sister. My sister was the first to take up art in our family, spanning a variety of curiosities from architecture, to board games, to photography, to a music-inspired triptych painting for my 21st birthday.

With our aim being to bring art to communities that are having art programs cut from their school funding, the conversation orbited around: what can we provide, or do, to attract attention and goodwill in the communities we want to reach out to? Having been doing art her entire childhood, my sister interjected with some sort of contest program like she had participated in many times through middle school and highschool.

Local businesses would put up prize money, and the participants had to draw a potential advertisement or picture for whichever sponsored business the participant received at random. There were a variety of sponsors–ads running the world and all. My sister told us that she got a vacuum machine business two years in a row, and was relieved when one year she got a glass company.

“Either way,” she said, “I remember those contests to this day, and they are a great way to show you are willing to give first. When I won a prize for the glass company ad, that gave me so much confidence to keep doing art, or at least to give it a little more effort than I was.”

Out of this, the contest was born, and along with offering free comic book workshops, we offered the libraries participation in our new Do Art Comic and Art contest with three cash prizes for two categories: Comics & Art. They had to either draw a comic to participate in the Comic contest, with a six panel comic template printed for them, or draw an image of our Frida Kahlo-inspired original comic book duck: Señorita Earthquack.

As I’ve stated before, and most certainly will again: Doing anything is difficult.

How hard could it be putting together a comic and art contest, on the fly, while still nudging a business like a boulder up a hill (an obviously Sisyphean task)? TUH! How easy it is to overlook the actual terrain when looking at the paper of a map! Something as simple as writing instructions, which can seem so obvious to those of us with the idea, becomes cryptic to a young mind, eager to participate, but coping with a world of touch screens, and fidgety-widgets. Then there was the unexpected spree of success that began not only filling up the schedule, but requiring time here and there and all kinds of elsewheres. Juggling became a mental necessity, and anyone who juggles knows it requires quick, precise, and responsive action to keep all objects afloat. Good problems, certainly, but full of stress and uncertainty all the same.

But, like accomplishing almost anything, it is mostly consistent effort and attendance, which works perfectly for someone like me who, if obsessed by something, will refuse to quit. The contest got its many revisions, and eventually reached 8 different local libraries, 1 library two hours south, and even one in another state!–making ten libraries total that agreed to participate. The thing about gradual change is that it can be easily taken for granted until the whole surrounding is transformed, and you unwittingly act as if it has always been this way. This is very natural, of course, but something I have been more and more aware of as of late as these transformations become more frequent. If you would have told me a few months before that I would be hosting a cash prize art and comic contest based on my original character and coordinated by my production company, I would have emphatically thanked you for the vote of confidence, but by no means would have been an easy convert to such a vision of potential. But here it and I were, waiting for submissions, while now scheduling ten low-priced workshops. I would often sit and blink at walls just listening to music, trying to comprehend how all of this has happened. In the beginning, these little wins were larger than reality. It was as if watching the mystery of manifestation in tangible action. It was simply: magic.

So, anxiety counted the days down. I half suspected there would barely be enough submissions to fulfill our prizes, but after days of that rumination, I was decidedly grateful if we got at least six contestants. Then deadline day came despite my lack of fingernails, and I headed out to the eight nearby libraries to face the inevitabilities of our efforts. At the first library I picked up two amazing submissions which immediately humbled my worried ego, finding solace that even if it was only these two contestants, it was all worth it. The fact that they went through with the instructions, and put so much time and thought into their submissions–I wanted to give them both all of the prizes right then and there. But I continued on.

The next library had one submission inspiring all the same gratitude. Then the next was six submissions, then 12, then 14, then more and more until all said and done we had 48 submissions! Suddenly, this gratitude became an inexpressible encumbrance.

Here I am now, back at home, cross legged in the middle of the floor encircled in the most colorful spectrum of artistic expressions, from comics, to collage, to detailed portraits shaded in marker, all glowing with light pastel hues of personality. It almost spins as I stare at them all, trying to concentrate on any one of them individually, but, overwhelmed, I allow myself to sink into the surrealness of the moment, and try to project my heart’s deep appreciation outside of myself. I don’t mean to sound religious, but sometimes, with art, it’s impossible not to.

The dilemma gradually gained resolution: I had to choose but six. This appreciation began to solidify into a gravity, and that back-straightening feeling of responsibility crept into my spine. I blinked and blinked and blinked. Existential questions began to bubble up as defense mechanisms. What is good and bad art? Are there even such things? Why weigh anything on a value system anyways? Aren’t all value systems inherent vanity?… There was no end in sight. Then the easiest idea struck me like a refreshing breeze: we’ll do runner up awards and double the amount of contestant ‘winners’. 6 became 12 with the blink of a thought, but still, twelve yes’s were easy. It was the 37 no’s that loomed like Aku–my nostalgia-projected nemesis of judgment…

Anyways, I can’t drag this out forever. My criteria of choice was technique, and personal enjoyment. The submissions spanned a wide gap of ages from 5 to 17 years old, only making the fairness scale that much more difficult, however, both first place winners presented tremendous technical skill and were much younger than I ever would’ve imagined. Blake (10) and Jisa (10) were awarded first place, Blake winning the comic contest with an amazing comic about a mouse watering flowers on their porch, and Jisa winning the art contest with a beautiful marker shaded rendition of Señorita Earthquack that left me humbled in my own abilities. Unbelievably, and not coordinated by me whatsoever, the Belvidere community, where the Ida Public Library is located, held a time capsule ceremony a week after the closing of the contest. Since having agreed to receiving copied versions of their artworks, the actual contest winning submissions were selected to be included in the capsule. A ceremony was held and Blake’s comic, and Jisa’s vision of Senorita EarthQuack were sealed and buried, and not to be reopened for a hundred years. It was with a moment like this that I started to feel the tectonic shift of the plates beneath me. The transformation of the terrain was becoming so surreal. Again, it simply felt like…magic.

So without further ado, let’s present the winners and their artists. I will only be presenting first names and grade, as well as the library where their submissions were gathered. One last note is the criteria of personal enjoyment. I want to clarify simply to say, more than a few were potentially not ‘technically proficient’ however their creativity and uniqueness was beyond the need of such conventions. This point is important to stress a second time, for by far the biggest obstacle to doing art is doubt in either its value or our ‘technical’ abilities. But: ALL OF US ARE BORN CREATIVES. Sure, we may hone our skills to be more articulate with what we are trying to express, but creative intuition can go beyond any structure. One can make the most rudimentary drawings, and give them short word dialogues, and still make me physically laugh out loud–something that occurred with more than one of the artworks below.