No. 300: Crown of Thorns

No. 300, "Crown of Thorns," June-July 2015

 

I view drawing No. 300 as a significant milestone, and I wanted it to bake peoples' heads.
It had to be something that no one would expect from me or, possibly, some could even accept.
The choice was made in June: Is there any figure more debated than Jesus Christ?

I'm not particularly religious, and this is not meant to ignite any sort of argument. I only go to church for funerals. My Methodist membership expired about 30 years ago. The Catholics I live with never managed to sell that scene to me. But I've read the book, and large chunks of it stuck.  Perhaps it's out of a sense of wonder, perhaps it's fear.
Every now and then I eke out a prayer and have a conversation with a silent force. That's enough for me.

Nearly complete, but before I softened his face.

What I did not want to illustrate was a glowing, perfect man. There are a lot of airbrushed Jesus types out there.
I wanted to show a guy at the end of his rope, tore down.  Not glamorous.
I especially wanted the face to look drained -- yet hopeful. Or is it a look of anticipation?
There are many representations of Jesus from which to choose characteristics and I took from many: The face, hair, thorns, ragged cloth and wounds are a compilation of "waiting on the cross" images.

I also did not really intend to create a "Personal Jesus," a picture for some home shrine.
My original, sincere plan was to donate this drawing to a church or organization. I thought it would look nice in a vestibule or study room. I repeatedly asked any churches or members interested to reach out to me to make arrangements, and none did.
Maybe this Jesus looks a little too spooky for little children.

Robe in the works

Interestingly, in making my choice back in June for No. 300, I had a conversation with a work colleague and we both agreed that Jesus would be an interesting and meaningful choice.
Then she became a former colleague and moved on to brighter pictures.
By September I had begun posting online photos of a watercolor horse painting (No. 304, "Burton") that I intend to sell. And the former colleague contacted me from Pennsylvania.

"Whatever happened with your No. 300?" she asked. So I explained and she wondered if I'd sell it.
I'd hung the picture in my studio and Jesus had watched me pay bills for a few months, over a difficult summer. After a little while I said yes.
She now has her seventh Tom Wills Production. She thinks it's beautiful and I am thrilled.
He does indeed work in mysterious ways.

Below is how the drawing emerged across two months.  

June ...

July ...