Draw (Almost) Every Day

I can't say how many years I've started out with the intention to draw every day and never got much beyond good intentions. But it still strikes me as a worthy challenge to give myself, so here I go again. I didn't start this time until January 7, and I've already skipped a few days, but at least I'm drawing more than I have in a long time, and that's really the whole point of the exercise. My motto this time around: No excuses, no apologies, no guilt!

I think one of the things that has stopped me before is choosing a time and place for drawing. So far this year, in acknowledgement of my night-owl ways, I have done them while sitting in my favorite chair in the living room, late at night after Craig has gone to bed and usually after I've either finished the Sudoku or gotten stumped by it.

I also decided to use a medium-sized sketchbook (8.5 by 11 inches), which is small enough to be easily managed, and large enough to let me play around on the page and write a few notes and such. Using an ordinary sketchbook of good quality (the Canadian sketchbook brand) and not a "journal" also helps, I think. The book and paper aren't so nice that I feel intimidated by it, but it's still nice enough to be a pleasure to work on.

I also made a list of prompts, which I haven't felt the need to consult, because just writing down some ideas has helped, and sitting in my chair helps, too, because I do try to surround myself with items I find appealing.

The newest issue of Conservation magazine, published by the Minnesota Department of Natural Resources (MnDNR), featured a cover story about foxes, with lots of nice photos. This, right after I saw on the Etsy merchandising blog that foxes are "trending," whatever that means.

A few days ago, Nora brought home a few cuttings from an ivy plant she was given by a relative of her current employer/client (she's working as a personal care attendant, or PCA), and I put them in a vase I bought last month from my friend Judy Anderson (aka Dragonfly Guild). I've been really enjoying the way the wiry stems extend from the vase, so last night I drew that, first sketching lightly in pencil, then finishing in ink, then deciding to add some color with watercolor pencils.

Using this practice to flesh out ideas for projects is a good way to keep me at it, too. So after a woman contacted me via my Etsy page to suggest that I consider making bookplates, I have been thinking about and sketching some ideas for a design.



So, my goal for 2012 is more like "draw almost every day," or "draw pretty often." Maybe I'll even keep at it this time around.

Stuck and Unstuck

On a forum of local Etsy sellers recently, a colleague posted the question, What do you do to get unstuck? She was contending with having many ideas and inspirations for projects, but finding she kept getting distracted and was having trouble getting at any of them.

I welcomed the topic because I often find myself there, too. So I took the opportunity to think through what sometimes works for me and post a response. Just doing that is helpful, of course!

When my work space is messy, everything seems overwhelming and it's hard to organize my time or anything else, so often I will start there. Once my desk/table/art room is at least somewhat tidy, I feel more ready to tackle some tasks.

The next thing I like to do is make myself a cup of tea or coffee and sit down to prioritize, using a few criteria:

Valentine cards: timely

• What is most timely?

• What can be accomplished with materials I already have on hand?

• What will take the least amount of time and effort to complete? The satisfaction of finishing something often sweeps away some of the mental/emotional clutter and helps me to move on to the next thing.

• What do I feel the strongest urge to work on? Sometimes, I feel a strong desire to work on a new idea even though it's not the easiest one to complete or the most timely, and I may think I must finish other projects before I can start on the one I really want to do, and so everything feels like an obstacle. If that is the case, I think if I could just ignore those other “shoulds” and throw myself into that wild impractical thing that is tugging at me so fiercely, I would probably make meaningful progress. I rarely give myself permission to do this, though.

And, of course, it's all much easier to say than do!

Messing around in books

I like books. I like to read them, of course, and I like the look and feel of them, and I like messing with them—writing in them, sometimes drawing in them, and, if the book's not precious and I don't want to read it anymore (or at all, in some cases), I like to carve the pages or otherwise alter the book.

Truthfully, though, I've done very little of that, and tend to get rather intimidated by the sculptured book as art form. Looking at the work of artists such as Jennifer Khoshbin and Brian Dettmer doesn't help, either. No, that's not quite right. These amazing and accomplished book sculptors are certainly intimidating in their skill and artistry, but also inspiring. I don't have to attempt to engage in the same level of intricacy and precision to take inspiration from their wonderful creations.

I'm not as inspired by most of the altered books that come up when I do a Google image search on the topic, though. It begins to look like a fad, and a highly redundant one, to me: too many images of fairies and butterflies and other things with wings (not that I don't love things with wings as much as the next person), and an overall similarity of images and textures and colors. You know, kind of pseudo vintage romantic whatever. And, it seems to me, not really responding to the book as a starting point, but just using any old book as a platform. Pretty soon you'll be able to buy books just for altering at Michael's (an arts/crafts supply store chain in the Twin Cities, and probably elsewhere), if you know what I mean.

Which brings me to The Beasts of Tarzan, a book I picked up at a used-book store a long time ago and, enjoying the imagery and melodrama of the text and its illustrations, thought I could have a bit of fun with it. It sat for a long time before I did anything at all with it, and then I got the idea to carve out niches and use it like a curio case to display some sort of little beasts, to play off the book's title and theme.

I found some guidelines on creating niches (that link isn't where I got my guidelines, but it pretty much says the same thing), and got as far as making a block of the pages by gluing the edges, and cutting my niches, and then pretty much stopped there, with the book, that is.

I was drawn to the "blocks" of paper that I had lifted from the niches as I was cutting them out, and so I turned my attention to those, making them into miniature artworks, two of which I traded or gave away, and three of which I've listed for sale in my Arty Didact Etsy shop. (Didn't I just sneak in a bit of shameless self-promotion there?)

Meanwhile, the book awaits my further ministrations. I'd really like to play a little on the metaphoric idea of beasts, and so, as I usually do, have made it that much more challenging to myself to come up with the kinds of objects and images that will convey the vague notions floating about in my head. Usually, I just need ample time to ponder an idea or theme before I create anything with it; but I keep discovering, in art as well as in writing, that it helps to get those thoughts out of my head and share them with others in order for them to coalesce into something more concrete. Like talking to my husband or a friend about it, or writing about it in this blog. Even just this much, just voicing what's in my head, is enough to get my creative practical gears churning, I find.

So, thanks for listening. And if you care to use the comments feature to say something about your particular beasts, I'd love to read what you have to say.