The Digital Tablet & Dad

it was always hard to tell if my dad was sick, a hypochondriac, or if all dads went to the doctors' as often as ours did. but whichever it was, he seemed set on making sure we were his idea of healthy and didn't have to go through the same trouble when we were old.

in spending time with my wacom tablet, sketching out the spider short, i started thinking about my dad and what in the world he's missed.

there's a lot i wonder if he would've been able to handle. he was excited about the internet when it first came to our house, but i don't see him doing to well with the internet today. i do, however, think he would like the wacom tablet.

of the many things he'd warn us of, the one i remember most is back-related injuries.

if i was laying on my stomach, he would tell me to put a pillow under my belly or to lay a different way because i was arching my back. arching my back would eventually cause back-related injuries. but at other times, like during certain kinds of gymnastics, he would shout "arch your back!" with the same demand as when he shouted "use your arms!" during our sprints. it seemed his thoughts on back-arching was back and forth-- like america and carbohydrates. whether i could understand the pattern of when arching my back was good and when it was bad is not the point. one way or another, my dad was looking out for my back because he knew he'd probably passed on a shitty spine.

he made me an easel once. it was small and could sit on a table the same way a laptop can. the idea was to help correct my drawing posture. i did, and still do, bend my back till it resembles a candy cane and my face is two inches from the paper.


those are my knees pushing on my chest, for the record. and i've been compared to the girl from the ring.

i never enjoyed using that easel because it made my arm tired a lot quicker than my way. and also because it made it very easy for everyone to see what i was drawing. while i've found new fun in drawing in front of people, i definitely did not consider it a social activity as a kid. the easel ultimately made me draw less.

i'm not sure whatever happened to it-- if it was removed so that i wouldn't give up on drawing altogether-- but it didn't exist for very much of my life.

but it brings me some kind of peace knowing somewhere on another world, wherever people go when they die, my dad is probably wondering if i am a crotchety man with a wretched spine yet, or if i just gave in and built myself an easel.

he never would've guessed that years after his death companies manufactured digital tablets that allow an artist to draw on a horizontal plane, while looking straight forward at a screen. our posture is perfect and our arms don't get tired-- we no longer need to look down while we draw. it's the best of the easel and the bent-over back method.

i think he would be happy to see me drawing on this tablet, not needing to twist my back like i used to.

but i think he might also just move toward the idea that it's very bad for my eyes.