Sketches and the Action of Art
It’s early on Sunday morning. Moonset--that mystical transition into daybreak, where the luminous lantern of night fades behind the skeletal branches of treetops, as the deep blue of the sky slowly lightens. It’s a glorious sight this morning, watching the full moon traverse the sky and close upon the final day of February. I can hear a few birds calling, signifying that the winter season is thawing into the waking of spring. My cat, Max, is making a stealthy attempt at stealing my coffee. He likes to dip his paw into the mug, whenever he can manage to. No idea why. He’s an enormous orange ginger with a bold attitude, expressive voice, and peculiar habits. Anyway, onward with the topic of this week’s journal…
Today, I am celebrating! I began an art series titled, “Sketch of the Day” a little over a month ago, and have stayed with this daily practice successfully. In fact, it now feels awkward to go through a full day without drawing. Most of the sketches so far have been pen and ink studies, though for a few of them I wrote inspirational quotes or played a musical sketch on piano. The motivation behind starting “Sketch of the Day” was to build my consistency--to be engaged in creating something new, source daily inspiration, and develop my ability as an artist. It’s been an instrumental part of transitioning into illustration, which is a new direction I’m very excited for this year!
I remember my professors emphasizing the importance of drawing every day when I was studying theater design at Columbia. I fully agreed with them, but had a hell of a time trying to stay with that daily pace. I would typically wait until a day or two before my assignments were due, and bust out dozens of sketches until my hand ached and I could hardly see the page in front of me. I was working incredibly hard around classes to support myself through school, and had only been able to set aside a couple of open nights for my homework. And I almost never found enough time after those assignments were finished to draw for my own enjoyment.
This process has been a way of reclaiming my love for drawing. When art is your profession, you’re typically working for multiple entities and on a spectrum of projects. It can become nearly impossible to carve out the time and space to create things from your own interests and origination. Since the pandemic brought my work in theater to a halt nearly a year ago, I’ve been determined to enjoy this open time as an artist and see what comes through. What do I want to draw? It can be pretty scary and disconcerting when you reach a point of overwork to where that answer is empty, and as daunting as a blank page.
What I found is that I had to just start. I couldn’t wait for the inspiration to strike. The inspiration to draw was already there, but had to be freed through my own action. Not every artist will tell you this, but each stage of creating involves overcoming some form of resistance. I truly, genuinely love to draw--I love what I learn from studying the world around me, the feeling of layering and building a form through lines, the liberation of releasing an image from my mind. It’s a completely fulfilling and restorative process where I can wholly engage my imagination. And even with this level of passion, there is always some element of resistance. Often, I’m unsure if the first few pen strokes will turn out to be what I want. Some days, it seems like it will take more energy than I have to complete a drawing from start to finish. But--I have to try. And that’s the point. Showing up to the call and doing it. Some drawings turn out completely different than what I envisioned when I began them. Honestly, that’s a big part of the fun--to see what happens. It involves trust, and persistence. And the dedication of responding to the impulse to make something.
I’m excited to see how much my own work will transform with this daily practice. It’s become such an important part of my day, and I hope it will further open the channel between my imagination and the page. I’ve already noticed a difference in my speed--I’m becoming more efficient in the ability to capture what I see. And most importantly, I’m learning how not to overthink. I try to choose subjects that will challenge me to learn something--whether it’s the glint of light in an expression, the curve of a foreshortened figure, the perfect symmetry of an element of nature… I look forward to learning more.
Some of my favorite works of art are sketches. I love the glimpse they offer into the mind of the artist. I’ve always found the journey to be the most interesting, before the destination is reached. Among the resources that encouraged my love of drawing are the varying chalk sketches of the Renaissance masters. In a cherished section of my home library, I have more than a few books of DaVinci’s sketches alone. Exploring the drawings that led to the creation of a masterpiece will always provide a deeper context to appreciate the story it holds. Observations of the world’s life, wonders that are felt before seen, tiny magical occurrences that surround us in nature--these are the seeds from which masterworks grow.
This week is all about a celebration of the process, and the journey of creating. In that spirit, I encourage you all to find something and draw it. Doesn’t matter how proficient, stylized, simple, or weird it is. Just literally have fun with it. There’s no pressure to share your drawing with anyone, unless you want to. You may catch yourself observing the things around you with just a bit more clarity and attention. And most importantly, you may learn more about yourself by trying something new, and taking the action.
Happy Sunday!
--Jessie ;)
Each of these drawings was freehanded in pen, throughout the pages of my travel blog journal. I’ve grown to really enjoy sketching in pen, and find the fact that I can’t erase to be very liberating. It challenges me to trust myself, and emboldens my ability to capture the pure impression of what I’m observing or imagining.