We’ve all seen those beautiful Moleskine sketchbooks, leather covers, brimming with flawless drawings, not a single page torn out in shame. Then there are folks who scribble on napkins and loose leaf printer paper — low pressure media. Most of us probably sit in the middle of this bell curve.
For us, our sketchbook is not a portfolio, and we would regret leaving it on a cafe table. Some of us are quite choosy about who gets to look at which pages. A peek behind the scenes is a peek into the mind.
For the longest time, I didn’t trust my process.
I remember my mom shooing me out of the kitchen while she was cooking. [Note: I am certain this was for safety reasons, and not out of any concern that I would judge her ability to chop tomatoes.]
Most people don’t like to be watched, and certainly not when they’re making something. Even if you’ve done it a hundred thousand times before — as soon as you feel eyes on you, you get the feeling that this will be the time you blow it.
It was something I wanted to shake off.
Last year, I started recording time lapse videos of my watercolor paintings. It was a great way to get used to showing people my process. It helped me to understand my own work, and I could delete the footage if I didn’t want to share it. Best of all, every decision looks so much more confident in fast-motion. People loved seeing these videos. Their enthusiasm gave me just enough confidence to take the next step. I dedicated a hashtag to these watercolor portraits.
I signed up for a total of 7 events this year, and I made drawings on the spot, in front of people, at all of them. Not only have I stopped worrying about people seeing my process — I’ve come to really enjoy it.
Trust your lines
Of course, it’s one thing to share a video of the last 30 minutes of a painting condensed into one minute. Going from a blank page to a finished product — in real time — is a different beast entirely. You need to be able to trust your lines.
I’ve always loved drawing animals, and I especially love dogs. I know all about just about every kind of dog. I’ve worked with dogs. I know how they move, how they think, and which way the fur lies across every plane of their body. I know, without a shred of doubt, that I can draw a dog.
That’s lucky for me for two reasons: dog owners like art of their dogs, and dog owners are very sweet people.
Going into this, I knew my process to be messy. I work very loosely, relying on gesture drawing to construct the form. If I try to work slowly, there’s no life in my lines. Things get too stiff. But I worried that a gestural drawing wouldn’t be taken as seriously as something with more polish.
I quickly learned that, if the drawing expresses their dog, people are thrilled. Besides, it’s a fast drawing at an event, not vector art. Dogs are lively, my lines are lively — it’s actually a perfect fit!
There have been so many lessons like that. Reminders to get out of my own head. My process isn’t even as messy as I had imagined.
I enjoy working with ink. No eraser means you live with your mistakes until you realize they weren’t so bad after all. I love seeing the construction lines, too. Sometimes they’re more true than the finished ones! That was definitely a strength — I could move more quickly and confidently.
The more caricatures I did at these events, the more positive feedback I got, the more experience I gained, the more I realized something:
It’s not about the process at all.
It’s about the friends you make along the way. It’s hokey, alright? But look, it’s that connection with people. You’ve made a thousand drawings, and it’s become routine for you. But when you let people, non-artists, see behind the curtain, they will be mystified by what they see. They see this as a kind of magic.
I’m not saying we have to feel comfortable opening our sketchbooks to the world. I just think that, if we did, it might not be as terrible as we imagine.
And when it comes to drawing in front of people: If the final product is great, nobody cares how you chop the tomatoes.
Do you like art-related babble? I’m trying something new in 2020. The Artful Armadillo Newsletter! It will only go out 4 times a year. First edition drops January 1st. It will contain a secret word that you can say when you see me next year to get free goodies! Sound like fun? I’m excited. Sign up here.
Whether you had a great visit to the first show or you missed it, you’re in luck. Because as Yoda once said, “There is another.” And it’s going on right now, yes RIGHT NOW at the same location. All this week, in the run up to the start of Hanukkah, which also happens to be Christmas Eve, the shop is open from 10a – 8p, and on Saturday, 10 – 4 (gotta make time to set the cookies out for Santa, you know how it is.) See you there!
Artful Armadillo 