wrong? You may pounce on the doubtful drawing, but how will you correct it? You might even make matters worse.
Hold up your drawing before a mirror. The picture will be reversed, and seeing the unfortunate detail from an entirely different point of view sometimes—if not always—flings the mistake in your face.
Should you find it to be so in this instance, try again. Put down your drawing and erase it gently. Never use the rubber viciously or revengefully, as you may be tempted to do, for you must always treat the surface of your paper with respect.
Supposing, however, that you are still unconvinced; that you believe your drawing to be right and your critic wrong. Try another test.
Hold your drawing to a strong light—of a lamp, or at a window—and look at the back of it, when your drawing will be seen reversed. Can you now perceive anything wrong?
He-who-cannot-draw sometimes fancies things are wrong—that I will admit; and he-who-cannot-draw can be just as obstinate in his opinions as the artist.
Should you honestly feel that your drawing is a correct interpretation, stick to your opinion. But try to keep an open mind, and never despise advice because it is humble.
Some of the greatest people have sought the advice of simple folk. Wasn't it Moliére who read his plays to his cook?
Try to get an expert's opinion. 'An expert' does not necessarily mean an expert artist—that we cannot often hope to find—but one who is expert in the particular subject that is engaging our pencil.
For instance, if I made a study of a cow or sheep, I should preferably take that drawing to a butcher or a farmer for a criticism. The criticism might be shattering, but there is this to be said for it. The man who is familiar and more or less an expert with such animals will instinctively pounce on glaring mistakes.
A doctor has a sound working knowledge of the human
