Did you read the title and get a bit of anxiety at the thought of not using an eraser to sketch? If you did, I completely understand. To be honest, I actually share some of your anxiety about it. Out of the kinds of art I do on a regular basis, sketching is absolutely my least favorite. This wasn’t always the case, though; as a kid, I drew whenever and wherever I could. I would draw everything from model cars to snakes, basically anything that caught my interest. I’ve even had a drawing or two crumpled up by an annoyed teacher (still kind of upset about that). All my love for sketching changed once I discovered acrylic paint in high school. With the ability to build and layer the medium like I’ve never been able to with graphite, I put all my practice into acrylic and abandoned the years of work I put into learning how to sketch. Once I regained an interest in sketching the last couple of years (for the simple reason that, for me, better sketches = better paintings), I developed a rather anxiety-provoking knack for constant erasing of any perceived mistakes, even at times starting over on a sketch that was near complete because it wasn’t “just right”. This conflict with sketching created a lack of interest in working to re-develop my drawing skills. And I knew that, in order to keep progressing in my craft, I had to confront this stubborn roadblock. So, recently I’ve been putting myself up to a challenge. For the last month or so, I have been sketching things in pen, not allowing myself to redraw or erase anything I thought didn’t look “perfect”, and attempting to finish the sketch even if it didn’t turn out the way I wanted. It’s been an especially random process, as I typically only remember to do it when my schedule is clear for a while. But every time I have attempted it, it has been fully worthwhile. Here are some reasons why you should give it a shot: 1. It builds character! I know, I sound like every grizzled dad talking to their teenager from a 90s TV show, but knowing you cannot erase any perceived mistakes is a really easy way to both build confidence in yourself as an artist and to identify areas of improvement you might want to work on. Multiple times when I decided to sketch something, I went into it thinking the end result would be a lot worse than it actually was. Even though it’s fully reasonable to be nervous trying something as difficult and seemingly “final” as sketching in pen, I came to realize that it was also a very low-stakes way of showing myself what I can do when I put my mind to it. Unlike a painting or a sculpture, for instance, the time dedicated to an individual sketch is incredibly miniscule. I often used our Creative Cafes, our daily 30-minute creativity chill sessions here at the C4C (which I definitely recommend you check out, btw!) as a soft timer for the amount of time I would dedicate to any individual sketch. And instead of trying to think up a concept purely from my imagination, as I often do in a painting, I used items in my work environment as models, which kept things pretty casual. And while I don’t suggest sharing your final results if you aren’t comfortable with that just yet (or at all!), I slowly started getting really excited about posting the sketches on social media once I was done, something that used to always bring me dread. Sometimes the best way to conquer a fear is to confront it head on. But wait, there’s more! (Yes, I had the infomercial voice in mind while writing that.) Not only does it help build your confidence to draw with full commitment, it also literally gives what you draw character! In a redraw of a painting I did in 2016, I noticed how the sketch had a different feeling than the painting I put together all those years ago. It felt more fluid than the original, as I took creative liberties that didn’t exist in the reference. In the end, I had two very similar and yet very different pieces of art. While working on the sketch, I momentarily thought about small details that were off in ways that I typically fix with a redraw later; repositioning the arm or making the hands bigger to be more proportionate. However, the more I observed what I drew, the more I started loving those little “happy little accidents,” in the words of just-go-with-the-art-flow king Bob Ross, as the piece feeling a bit off is a part of its appeal. 2. It gives you a reason to slow down and appreciate all the little details For as horrific the pandemic has been (and believe that I do not wish to make light of that fact in the slightest) the single silver lining I have been able to find is that it has been one of the few things that, briefly, brought the whole world to a standstill. It wasn’t for as long as it should’ve been, of course. However, it was still incredible to me, as somehow who was struggling to balance my home, work, social, and rest schedules with the pressure from social media to keep them out of balance, that we finally had a national and global discussion about slowing things down. And so in the weeks and months following initial lockdown, I’ve been looking for ways to slow down in any ways I am able, like fully appreciating meals and taking walks around my neighborhood without headphones (which also means fewer bus rides). And even though I did the best I could to consciously slow myself down in a myriad of different activities, it wasn’t until I started this challenge that I realized I have the tendency to rush through the sketching process. It made sense, as it wasn’t my forte and was perhaps one of the most uncomfortable parts of the artistic process for me. Still, for me to get better at it, I had to learn to take my time and really observe what I was doing. And drawing in pen helped me to start drawing with intention. I started noticing little aspects of things, like how there are multiple different types of glare on curved glass, or the multiple ridges on the leaves of a Rex Begonia plant. These are things I would’ve never cared to pay attention to while I was in a hurry to get to the painting process. 3. You’ll find that you judge yourself less when you are allowed to make “mistakes”
All people, no matter their level of expertise or level of connection to their creative side, know the feeling of being too hard on themselves. In all of our brains, we have a little critic who oversees all we do and isn’t afraid to point out even the most miniscule of human errors and make them out to be the most egregious missteps imaginable. The critic can sometimes be really helpful: sometimes a little self-doubt is all it takes to ask for help when you need it, or to spend more time on something you truly care about. It can be the reason that we think things through or reflect on our actions so we learn from them in the future. However, for all the good our internal critics can do, they can also wreak havoc on our ability to try something new or difficult. Too often, our fear of not being good or even promising at something on our first few tries will prompt the critic to sow seeds of self-doubt and to question why we would attempt something outside of our comfort zone in the first place. Our internal critic can also prevent us from even trying anything new at all, convincing us that it’s better to not “embarrass ourselves” and to stick to what we already know. Sketching for me is one of those things that send my critic's alarm bells ringing. Even though I knew my sketches would be private for as long as I wanted them to be, the fear of messing up was so palpable that I couldn’t make myself start this experiment until a week after I told myself I would embark on it. But gaining enough courage to push the self-doubt out of my mind and risk not getting something right out of the gate allowed me to start this hobby that I am really beginning to enjoy. Through this process, I realized I wasn’t giving myself enough credit by only latching onto what I did wrong. I let little errors here and there color my perception of a perfectly fine drawing as something inadequate on arrival. While I can’t say I didn’t grumble under my breath about errors, I felt a lot more confident about my sketching skills once I allowed myself to really see the sketch through to the end. Once I removed that little critic from my brain, I gave myself a chance to figure things out. And instead of constant criticism, I finally started the process of appreciation. Try this out and see what lessons it brings you. I hope you use it as an excuse to be imperfect for a while, and to experience all the joys it brings. If anything, we as creatives (and people as a whole) deserve a break from expecting perfection for a while. - Jasmine Green, Center for Creativity Assistant. Find Jasmine's work here or follow her on Instagram. Did you try this out? Send us a photo at [email protected] for a chance for it to be featured on our site!
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