Living well through bad drawings
When some people see an illustrated journal, they say, "Wow, that's great. I could never do that." With some coaxing, they may be persuaded nonetheless to give it a try. Others say, "Wow, I'm going to do that." And they start too. And quite a few say, "Huh, where do you find
the time?" then use your journal as a coaster.
It's comparatively easy to start. To bring yourself to draw your breakfast once or your coffee cup once and to keep it up for a couple of days. Ideally those first few days infect you with the fever and you're compelled to carry a long series of journal books around with you for the rest of your days.
But more likely, your initial enthusiasm will wane. You'll forget to do it one day, give in to resistance the next, then feel like you've broken the chain, the narrative is lost, a month's gone by, and you drop it altogether. Why? Often it's because you are disappointed with your drawings. You may say you don't have the time, forgot your book, grew bored but it's really because you aren't that impressed with your drawing skill. You haven't made something that looks like Art.
I don't think that illustrated journaling is really about doing great drawings. You're not out to make something that you could frame or give as an Xmas present. I'm not really into doing the sort of exercises on perspective and tone that you see in most drawing books, exercises that will move your skills to another level artistically. Not that you shouldn't do them if they are fun or if you have some other goal in mind but I don't think they are essential for the true purpose of illustrated journaling.
That purpose? To celebrate your life. No matter how small or mundane or redundant, each drawing and little essay you write to commemorate an event or an object or a place makes it all the more special. Celebrate your hairbrush and it will make you appreciate the intricacy of the bristles, the miracle of your lost hair, the beauty of you. Sounds sappy but it's in there. Draw your lunch and it will be a very different experience from bolting down another tuna on rye. If you take your time (and we're just talking maybe 10-20 minutes here, folks) and really study that sandwich, the nooks and valleys, the crinoline of the lettuce, the textures of the tuna, you will do a drawing that recognized the particularity of that sandwich,. That's the point: to record this particular moment, this sandwich, not something generic. If you approach it with that attitude, you will create something as unique. reaching that place is just a matter of concentration and attention. A brief meditation and you will have a souvenir to jog your memory back to that a moment forever more. Imagine if you can keep doing that, keep dropping these little gems in your day, recognizing the incredible gift you are given each morning upon awakening. You will be a millionaire.
There's a demon in your mind that will fight this, that will tell you your life is unworthy of acknowledgment, that today sucks through and through. It will tell you you have no time for this, that you are too harried, too stressed. Which brings me to
Marybethd who wrote to me from Nebraska where she just had emergency eye surgery. For two weeks, she could only see the floor. She wasn't sidelined though— she drew all of her visitor's feet. She pulled art out of that tragedy, celebrated her visitors, created a positive memory that she will have to cherish long after her vision is back to normal. He nightmare became a lesson.
I have gone through my fair share of shit. My regret is that I didn't celebrate all of it. I can't say it often enough: life is short, art is long. Get the habit.
A record of my exploration into all aspects of drawing, illustrated journaling, creativity, and the inspiring aspects of art. By the author of "Everyday Matters," "The Creative License", and "An Illustrated Life" and other books.
Comments
Excellent points. That's why I do it - draw everywhere I go - even at stoplights and waiting for a table at a restaurant. I know that looking back on my life, that I will remember 'being there' more vividly because I took the time to draw what I saw. I wish I had been consistent with this. 20 years ago I drew and painted frequently, then stopped when I let other things get in the way. Then I started again, tentatively, February 1, 2003. Within a month or so I was drawing frequently, and when our son went off to college in the fall, drawing became an every day habit.. I don't think I'll be stopping anytime soon. The experience is far too precious.
Posted by: Karen Winters | May 5, 2004 12:23 PM
Thanks, Danny. I needed that.
Posted by: Marisa | May 5, 2004 02:39 PM
I have been drawing like a madman lately.
It has opened my eyes, opened me.
My drawings are technically quite poor, but I don't care.
I am seeing with new eyes.
And having fun.
Celebrate all of it...yes!
Sage advice.
Hard to practice, but I think the only way to truly live.
Posted by: Donavan Freberg | May 5, 2004 05:17 PM
it's so true.
and i think the fantastic thing about drawing is that it makes you see in ways you had not otherwise. i struggled a long time with drawing people from observation, it was so frustrating, but i have reached this point where i am nearly uninhibited, and have more confidence in my drawing abilities.
and i feel like i have never seen people as i do now, they have never been so fascinating and beautiful to me.
when do i find time to draw them? i am at uni five days a week, but on weekends i take the train to go to work & that has become my favourite place to draw people.
i love love love drawing & i am even going to write my dissertation on it.
Posted by: anke | May 5, 2004 07:54 PM
i have only recently begun to draw. it was you that inspired me to do so.
i just picked up a pencil and drew things around my apartment. i was never happy with them and became very frustrated quickly because i was trying to do the shading right, trying to get the perspective right etc etc. so i tried simplifying the process, just drawing the contour lines and trying to draw the image that way. i didn't draw everyday, but when i did draw i sat for hours, drawing the same thing over and over. yesterday i took my first drawing class, and what we did was what i had been doing, contour lines and making forms with lines. while i was in class drawing, my images totally sucked, probably because i could see everybody else’s drawings. but when i looked at them today they didn't look too bad, they were recognisable and so twice today i when i had 15 minutes to spare i found myself drawing.
your words have just reinforced what i learnt today. it doesn't matter if it looks bad what matters is the process and the memory it creates. i just hope can keep up the momentum.
thank you so much for sharing your thoughts and your drawings, you are a true inspiration.
Posted by: chlamygirl | May 5, 2004 10:13 PM
You're so right! I recently took up the habit and have been trying keep the custom of "illustrating" the day's blog entry with a small drawing. It keeps me sane, and anchors the events of the day with a better perspective. More and more I find little things/events/happenstances to be thankful for, instead of griping about things that don't go my way.
Drawing also keeps my mind freshly tuned to new ideas and new ways of seeing things, a quality that's sometimes hard to keep in my career shift into technical writing. And most of all, drawing keeps everyday life endlessly amusing.
Love your site.
Posted by: melissa | May 6, 2004 03:42 AM
Chlamygirl:
You are doing exactly what I did when I began — only it sounds like you are more commited. There's nothing like that feeling of getting so absorbed in a drawing that you lose track of time and want to keep going and going. When you're done, it's like you've returned to earth from outer space. The lines you put on the page are just the byproduct of that journey into yourself.
I hope taking a class is helpful to you. I'd use it just as a springboard for new exercises and experiments, not as a judgment of whether you are doing well. Only you can know that, can know if you are having a deep experience.
You go, Chlamygirl. Keep going!
Your pal,
Danny
Posted by: Danny | May 6, 2004 07:49 AM
Wow. If that was not a much needed message, then I do not know what was. You really made me think about not ripping another page out of my sketchbook ever again. It is the process, not what it looks like.
Posted by: Lu | May 6, 2004 08:23 AM
Thank you so much - for your wonderful site, your simply elegant drawings, and mostly for insights like this one that speak to ME and give me permission and approval of my efforts to record my life. I realize that the Art Police are not going to come to my office and arrest me for not drawing properly! I am starting to draw for the first time in a very long time and though it's scary, it's fun too. I've printed out your entry and posted it in my visual journal as a reminder to myself when my resolve slips.
Posted by: Lee | May 6, 2004 10:54 AM
i absolutely love that marybeth drew her visitor's feet!! bravo marybeth!! that's simply fantastic, and yes, why is it that part of us insists that every day sucks through and through?
i used to hate "wasting time" and always ran late for appointments; now i never mind getting to an appt early, b/c then i get time to scribble down someone's face or a plant in the corner. the simple act of stroking the pen on the paper, of connecting my eyeball to my fingertip, is so enjoyable, no matter what spaghetti winds up on the page.
thanks for constantly inspiring me to continue to celebrate ordinary moments. for celebrating elevates them to the sacred, makes My Life sacred. yes, even the tuna sandwiches on rye :)
Posted by: pixie | May 7, 2004 09:44 AM
This is why I do art now - to celebrate life and living.
Posted by: April | May 23, 2004 12:07 PM