To my shame, I’ve been neglecting my sketchbook lately. It’s not any kind of “creative block”—I’ve just been busy. It’s been that kind of year.
Once upon a time my sketchbook was the main outlet for my runaway creativity. My brain would have exploded with it, but unfortunately, I attained a peculiar form of success with my writing. It demands a lot of my time, so I tend to focus on it. Also, there’s making a living and all that other stuff.
If only I spent more time drawing, I would be a better artist. As things are, I consider myself pretty good, but my skills have a hard time keeping up with my imagination. What I see in my head outshines what I manage to nail to the paper.
It frustrates me.
Another reason I should draw more is the effect it has on my brain. It’s like exercise, food and medicine. I feel and function so much better if I’ve been drawing.
So, I try to keep at it. I keep a small sketchbook on a shelf next to the bed, open to a drawing, usually an unfinished one. I stare at it hoping to get the creative juices sloshing.
What keeps me from getting down and funky with it is that I’m usually busy or just too tired. Also, I get distracted.
I try to make some spontaneous scribbling that I make into a surrealistic composition and part of a morning routine. Too bad my schedule is so wacky.
Also, I keep having to get up early to rush off and do something.
In a more civilized world, I would get up late and do a slow wake up/breakfast ritual that would last until almost noon.
Maybe after I retire from the day job . . .
Meanwhile, I’ll be going on another road trip soon. In the back of my sketchbook, I'll take notes for my travelogues. Lately, I've been doing my damnedest to do quick sketches in those notes. It could help.
Someday, I’d like to be a crazy, prolific sketchbook guy again.
Yup, I’m a mad dreamer to the end.