elizabethlevett

“What kind of permission do you feel you need to pursue your dreams, creative or otherwise? Could you give it to yourself?” – Mason Currey for The Isolation Journals (Suleika Jaouad, The Book of Alchemy)

What does it look like to give yourself permission? It sounds simple. It could be. It should be. But we don’t do it often enough, I think. Oh sure, we have our rebellious moments from time to time when we buy those shoes or eat that dessert or kiss the banjo player. But to give ourselves over to play at something we care about, to take a chance at botching up something important, that takes nerve.

A few years ago, I spent some time learning to draw. I mean, of course I’d drawn constantly for my students in the classroom, but this was serious. I wanted to draw a leaf or a flower or my new shoes and have the drawing look reasonably realistic, to learn a little about perspective, tone, shadow, and I think I was doing pretty well. Then I got bored, no surprise, and decided to focus on fun stuff like loose watercolor and abstract landscape. It was an intoxicating to explore new media, but I got away from daily drawing practice. A couple of weeks ago, I grabbed a basic sketchbook and sat down with my softest HB pencil and a few models — an apple, a few lemons, my cats. It was disastrous. Nothing looked at all like something an art teacher would accept. Of course, I probably hadn’t taken the time to study the subjects long enough, hadn’t really worked out the measurements. And I do realize that my neglect was more a reflection of my self-doubt than anything else. Still, I was frustrated and I panicked. I had told myself that I simply can’t draw anymore.

So, what do we do in these moments when we’re ashamed of ourselves and feel inept? I did what any idiot does these days. I went online. Thankfully, the solution is simplicity itself. Instead of trying to control what I’m drawing, why not completely let go of control and just play? Why not turn off the nagging mind and simply allow my hands to explore and get back some muscle memory? I decided to go back to an exercise I tried a long time ago, blind contour drawing. My brother advised this technique as a way to train the eye to really see and allow the hand to relax into the process. Scary at first. It’s kind of like flying without a net but remembering how soft the ground beneath really is. I found head shots, reference photos of faces, and drew them without looking at the page. What I found was that, while the faces I drew lacked a good deal of detail and were often at funny angles, I liked them! The laws of measurement and perspective went out the window. But most important, I was having a blast making art again. And interestingly, my funny, off-kilter portraits often came out looking very expressive. Each one has a distinct character, a personality. Here’s the funny thing about control; we can’t really give it up because we’ve never really had it in the first place. Any sense of control is illusory and forced. Trying to grasp it will never bear us fruit.

“As soon as you accept the accidental effects, they are no longer accidents. They are necessity, the part of yourself that you could not expect or design beforehand.” Kazuaki Tanahishi, from Brush Mind

Here’s a prompt to try: Find a reference photo and really stare at it for a few minutes. Let your eyes travel each line and contour. Fall a little in love with your subject. Next, use a pencil, pen, colored pencil, crayon, or marker and draw continuously without looking at the paper. Try not to pick up the pencil (or whatever you’re using) or you’re liable to get lost. If you suddenly feel  nervous and peak once or twice, do not berate yourself. This is very important. Instead, reassure yourself that everything is fine even wonderful. Then go immediately back to focusing only on the photo in front of you. When you’re finished, you can always go back and embellish with a little paint or add layers of pastel to create shadow effects and character. Just don’t erase. Don’t violate what whimsy and trust have created or you risk a forced drawing and deep pangs of guilt. Control is nothing. The process, the play of it. That’s all that matters. Embrace your funny faces and they’ll continue to please you. Show them to your friends and maybe they’ll be encouraged to play too. (One friend said mine look like a bunch of very happy Egon Schiele drawings!)

“At one stroke I forgot all my knowledge. There’s no use for artificial discipline for, move as I will, I manifest the ancient way.”Xiangyan Zhikian

To learn more about letting go when you draw, find out about Austin Kleon. He’s on Instagram and also has a fantastic Substack page and some great books about art. He did a series of blind self-portraits. That takes guts. And they’re wonderful!

Courage, Camille, and remember too, “Always go too far because that’s where you’ll find the truth.” – Albert Camus