Savoring Your Drawing
What a beautiful idea! I love this notion of savoring every step of the process. I do my best work when I am able to do this. The hurried sketch on a cluttered desk, painting in a corner of the garage - these just don't work for me. Making art isn't just about making the marks. I love to lay out my pencils, sharpen them, riffle through the crisp sheets of paper to choose the right one. A fresh pot of tea for me, a dog-chew for the pup, a bit of Bach or maybe Rachid Taha, and the process becomes as significant as the product.
Shelley Esaak jokingly suggested 'stippling and cross-hatching large illustration boards with small diameter pen nibs' as a way to make slow art by default (though I'd go bonkers in the process). But there are less mind-bending ways to slow down and enjoy the process. Perhaps you already have a little setting-up 'ritual' that is part of your drawing? A couple of thoughts:
- Do some thumbnail sketching. Don't just launch into a piece. Explore the composition first.
- Try a challenging tonal drawing. Really take your time and get the tonal values right. Do something small and hone in on the details.
- 'Flash' commented previously on spending hours doing preliminary sketches. With watercolor this is essential, but it is worthwhile with drawing too. Test out your paper and explore various ways of approaching the subject - building structure, using line, mapping out tone.
- Don't stress about making a perfect finished product. If you enjoy the process, the end result doesn't matter quite so much. Part of the reason, I think, that we rush our art, is that we are afraid it won't work: we don't want to invest time in a failure.
- Don't let commercial requirements suck the pleasure out of your art. Keep making art that you enjoy, or better still, find a way to bring the market and your passion together.


Comments
I remember the thrill I had from having a plain white sheet of paper before me on desk lit by morning sunlight. It was quiet except for the sound of the graphite pencil making its mark as I drew a slow line across the dry, flat paper.
That’s beautiful, Pete.
I get caught up in thinking that I “have to” do some thing and not enjoying what I’m doing. I guess I forget about the “joy”.