At the beginning of the year I set myself the goal of relearning the skill of drawing. When I studied art we had to draw throughout the first year and I was ok enough to get through. I decided improving my drawing skills would benefit my art generally, so dedicated a notebook to regular practice.
Almost 5 months in I know exactly why I haven’t been drawing for the last few years. It brings me zero joy. Zero! I make mark with crayons, pencils etc, and love it. Realistic drawing … nope. So I’ve stopped. Art is my passion, not my career, so if it’s not bringing me joy, I don’t do it.
I’m currently reading ‘Drawing in the present tense’ by Claire Gilman and Roger Malbert – it’s a fascinating look at contemporary drawing.
Yesterday I blogged about six small pieces I was working on that were awkward and wrong. I described that base layer is an invitation to play. What I didn’t say is, and I have nothing to lose.
Tonight I grabbed collage paper scraps, glue, acrylic paint and followed my instincts. Not thinking, only doing. Are these finished, or good yet? No. But they’re better, and I think I’m going to like the final results. Sometimes having nothing to lose is a bonus.
Sometimes I sit down at my desk and the art flows – the skies look stormy, the hills have the right amount of light, and the finished pieces feel cohesive. Tonight wasn’t one of those nights!
I masked the edges on half a dozen small pieces of heavy watercolour paper, grabbed watercolour paints & water soluble pencils, and my favourite brushes. And then … nothing. The marks didn’t feel right, the paint didn’t act like I wanted, the colours felt muddy. None of the pieces gave me any joy, so I stepped away.
Why does that happen? Sometimes it’s because I haven’t warmed up in some way, maybe with a few minutes in an art journal, so my actions are awkward. Other times I’ve got a definite outcome in mind and it’s stopping me working in my natural way. Occasionally it’s because I’ve been watching a lot of one artist on YouTube and, without meaning to, I’m trying to make their art, not my art.
Will these pieces go to waste? Heck no! I’ll work over the top of them, adding crayon and acrylic, and possible collage, because a base layer I don’t like is an invitation to play.
A year or two back I tried having a ‘proper’ art website but it didn’t work me. I want to try again, but in a way that’s manageable. I decided to get a different domain name to my blog, but use WordPress as I’m familiar with it.
I got the domain name then somehow attached it to my existing blog. That doesn’t seem to be reversible so I’m running with it. Apparently I need a responsible adult supervising me…
This means two things; my blog will be more art, and less life, than in the past. That said, art informs my life, and life inspires my art., so there’ll always be a mix. It also means over the coming days I’ll be adding works for sale onto my blog, probably as a seperate page. So, watch this space…
I have often said art heals. It’s good for me to create – it soothes my soul. Working regularly in my art journal lets me say in words, images and gestures all the things I can’t put into spoken words. I believe the act of creating is good for all of us, whether we’re creating art, making music, baking, gardening … there’s an outlet for anyone who will listen to their inner voice.
What I don’t often talk about is that art can also heal the viewer. Whether that’s the power of seeing art in a museum, having a piece of art that commemorates or celebrates something personal, or realising through a piece of art that you’re not alone.
Recently I sold three small works to a woman on the East Coast of New Zealand. They live in an area that was devastated in Cyclone Gabrielle. She commissioned me to make a bigger work referencing the hills they see daily, and the apple orchards in the area.
I’m not big on commissions so, instead, I created three works that fitted her general request. If one suited her needs, great! If not, I’d just sell them. That way, I don’t feel restricted to making work in a way that doesn’t fit with how I create. It’s a tactic I’ve used successfully before.
I showed her three pieces, and she asked me to make a small adjustment to one. Once I’d done that, she bought the work and I shipped it off. I got a message a couple of weeks ago that it was off to the framer. Tonight I got the Bluesky message shown below. Reading it made my eyes well up, and my heart feel full. My art helped her heal and that’s a magic thing to be part of.
Cath Sheard Art 