blank pages

Photo by Ashley West Edwards on Unsplash

I recently attended a group drawing session for the first time in a few years. I've always loved drawing, but during college I found that I was no longer getting joy from creating like I used to. College art classes felt like I was making things solely to have them ripped to shreds by my mentors and peers. I missed the freedom of doing art for fun and developed a debilitating fear of criticism. Even after being out of that environment for the past couple of years, I almost talked myself out of attending this session because I was afraid that I’d be the worst one there. Being afraid of making art felt like I was letting those critics win, so I dusted off my sketchbook and headed out into the single digit temperatures. Immediately upon arriving, everyone was kind and welcoming. The only challenge I had to overcome was my own mental block. I spent a good few minutes stuck in my own head, trying to remember how to even put a pencil on paper. Drawing was never something I thought of as being muscle memory, but it felt like the easiest thing in the world once I got started. Clicking my brain back into gesture drawing mode, where you’ve got a minute to capture the essence of the thing in front of you, felt like riding a bike.

We spent 2 hours drawing, but it flew by in an instant. Most of the things on those sketchbook pages probably aren’t good. I’m out of practice and my confidence is shaky at best, but the pages aren’t blank anymore. That feels like an incredible achievement for someone that has struggled to make anything for a long time. The leader of the group was a former art teacher (actually, my former art teacher) and she asked the group if anyone wanted to share what they’d done. No one was required to share their work if they didn’t want to, but everyone shared at least one sketch. We didn’t do any sort of critique or commentary, just hung our pieces on the wall and acknowledged the fact that they existed. It was a very healing moment to show my work to other people and know that they would be kind about it. The only feedback I received from my teacher was a smile and an “I’m so glad you’re here.” Someday I might be ready for actual art critiques again, but for now it felt good just to have someone acknowledge that me showing up was enough.

This all comes a couple of years after another of my former art teachers asked for my help on a project. It was a medium that happened to be one of my specializations at the time, and it was some of the most fun I’ve ever had making any kind of art. We spent weeks covered in purple foam while we talked about art and about life. That mentorship did more to validate my identity as an artist than any A+ or 1st place prize ever could. What an incredible joy to be healing my creative spirit alongside the women who fostered it in the first place. These were the people who pushed me to try new mediums, to enter art contests, to create with curiosity and not fear. They helped shape me as a young artist, and they are beyond supportive as I try to find that part of me again. I’m excited for next month’s drawing session, and to keep making art simply for the fun of it. Here’s to more creativity, and fewer blank pages.