So once upon a time I was an artist or at least I thought that I could have been or people told me I was or something like that.
I don’t know what constitutes art. I don’t know what makes someone an artist. I know that I feel renewed when I create something. I know that I find myself in it, that I am at my best when I don’t neglect it.
So, I embark on a ritual perhaps more for myself than for anyone, to create a sketch, one sketch, every morning for an entire month. In college, which was ages ago, I’d start each day this way and I could almost tell how good of a day I was going have based on how the sketch would turn out – great detail in the shadow of the eyelid equalled a better chosen outfit which equalled a more assured step out the door and we were off to the races.
I lost that somewhere. Actually, it just got more difficult to cultivate so there have been waves of it in years past. Having my daughter, my first child, brought it back like a flood. She has been like a rebirth of sorts but it’s not without cultivation. And so again, I look to renew.
Every morning for the month of August, I will get up bright and early before the day has asked too much of me. Two sugars and cream, maybe three sugars with a perfectly chosen pen and I’ll begin – nothing designed or contrived. Whatever comes to me, I’ll put it to paper.
At the end of each session, I’ll post the sketch in my Etsy shop and post in the blog to jot down my thoughts. I would love your feedback and some company for the month. Thanks for reading.