JG

When the Imagination Goes Blank

by
face in red color

Image and imagination are opposing concepts.

It happens rarely—but when it does, it’s unforgettable.
That eerie feeling that you’ll never again come up with anything to fill a blank page.
And every creator—musicians, writers, visual artists—has felt it at some point.
At that moment, you’re convinced there’s no way out.
It seems like you’ve reached the end of your creative mine, drained of all precious stones.
In my case, drawing portraits from pure imagination should protect me from that.
But it doesn’t.
Even when I use public domain photos as loose inspiration, the void still creeps in.
Sometimes I forget how to draw a nose—or curls, or eyes—and I wonder if I ever knew.
The only remedy I’ve found?
Grab the pencil and start drawing—without thinking.
You begin with a vague idea, and that idea evolves as the drawing grows.
Step by step, the focus shifts. Even the meaning of the image can transform.
It’s movement that defeats paralysis.
So if you feel stuck, don’t wait for clarity.
Start with chaos.
The hand moves, and the mind follows.
That’s how the image comes to life—and imagination returns.

I Just Draw

by
Thinking draw

Some people ask me what I do. I say: I draw. They ask: What do you draw? Drawings. It sounds like a joke.
Then I pull out my phone, show them my website. Their response is always the same: “Oh.”
As if they’re saying, “Right, I get it.” But I bet they don’t. Next comes the classic: “Are you an illustrator?” And I say no. I just like drawing. So I draw. Before that, I did photography. At first, plain photography—vernacular, just recording what was there. Then I shifted into surreal photography. Then, briefly, digital painting.
Until finally, I landed in drawing.

Whether drawing is a form of art is up for debate, I think.
If a banana taped to a wall sells for millions, there’s plenty of room. Drawing should be acknowledged as art. I’m sure it’s not that simple for critics, who must theorize, analyze, and classify.
But that’s not my concern.
I just draw. I do what I want.
Let the world figure out how to label it.

If you want to understand what I do, don’t ask me. Go see it.
Visit my website and decide for yourself.

Where to Follow My Work (Without Waiting for Instagram)

by
Man with a cap

You enjoy my work. Maybe you’ve seen a few on social media. But here’s the truth: I don’t always update my Instagram. I wish I had the time, but I don’t. So if you really want to follow what I’m creating, here’s how to stay close to the work itself.

I share every new piece on my website:
👉 https://gambandeart.com

There, you’ll also find a simple newsletter to get updates when something new appears. No spam, just art:
👉 Subscribe on the homepage

If you’re looking to collect one of my works, I keep a curated catalog on Artmajeur. Only selected pieces are available for purchase:
👉 https://www.artmajeur.com/j-gambande

If you enjoy reading my thoughts on art, process, and visual storytelling, check out my more personal newsletter. It is available on Substack:
👉 https://jgambande.substack.com

So no, Instagram won’t always reflect what I’m doing. But these four places will.

Check them out. Follow the art, not the algorithm.

No color

by
No color painting

What is a no color painting? Drawing is a hidden art. Or perhaps it’s more like a magic trick.

When you dispense with color, you lose a very important part. I’d say it takes away 70 or 80 percent of the tools you have to create visual art. It’s like stripping the clothes and jewelry off the mannequin and being left with only that bare wooden waist. What can you do in these circumstances?

Of course, you can draw with color, but that’s a branch of painting, not drawing.

It takes a lot of courage to, in these diminished conditions, insist on making art or something resembling it. Tools are scarce. Skill becomes essential. As long as we know what the necessary skill is.

We’re left with only monochrome tracers like pencil, ink, charcoal, shadows, highlights, and little else. Now the how becomes central. We have to decide.

Shadows and half-shadows must be invented in the appropriate place. Appropriate appropriation. In the past, a color or a duo of colors in dialogue could save your canvas. Now you only have the shadow from zero to one hundred.

Even the composition is threatened with death when color has stopped helping, balancing. Of distracting, why not? Without color, the composition is different. Shadows weigh more than volumes. Light is purer, and the scarcer it is, the purer.

With all these limitations, you have to be a magician. It’s crucial to create art from a few strokes. These strokes must attract people. And worse yet, to manage to provoke something in them. An emotion, a smile.


How to Look at a Portrait (and Discover a Story)

by


Have you ever looked someone in the eyes and, without a single word, remembered their entire story?

When we know someone well, their gaze triggers something inside us. We see their eyes, yes — but we also feel their gestures, their voice, their habits. That look becomes a doorway into their world. And, even if we don’t always realize it, that same experience can happen with a portrait.

You don’t have to know the subject. They might not even exist in real life. Yet a face can still speak to you. If you take a moment to truly observe, something deeper begins to reveal itself. Take the time to look with care. You may see a temperament, a doubt, a strength, or a sorrow. Every stroke, every shadow, every subtle expression tells a story.

I invite you to try it: choose one of my portraits and look into its eyes. Don’t rush. Wait. Maybe you won’t just see an image — maybe you’ll start to hear a story.

A Portrait like a Moon