Have you ever noticed that whenever a teacher draws on the board to explain something to the class, it always comes with a disclaimer?
“Well, I can’t draw, but…”
This was true of all of my teachers, and it always confused me. “You can’t draw, but you’re drawing right now to explain this thing to the entire class?”
I understand the impulse. Drawing is creating and sharing a drawing makes you vulnerable to judgment. What if they don’t like what I drew? What if they can’t tell what it is? What if it isn’t rendered perfectly?
I think that’s the issue. As we grow out of childhood, we seem to adopt a belief that we have to draw perfectly to be able to say we “can draw.”
I just don’t think it needs to be this way.
The teacher who draws on the board does it to get a message across. And usually it works. Your friend who draws on the bar napkin does it to communicate something. And usually it works. That’s drawing.
I get it, though. Ten years ago, I was also saying, “I can’t draw,” as a defense mechanism. I’ve never been able to render anything perfectly, and 2D Art was my worst grade in college. Even now, I draw quite regularly, but some of that “it’s not perfect” fear has crept back in.
In my sketchbooks lately, I have been scribbling. This is partly because when the toddler does it, it looks extremely fun (it is fun, I endorse the activity), and I’ve noticed the variation available in plain, old, Crayola-crayon scribbles is fascinating.
But I also think the scribble phase is happening because I let myself become intimidated again by drawing from life.
I didn’t realize this until a few weekends ago, when I met up with a friend1 to draw, in all places, a cemetery. When we sat down, I was intimidated by the scene: an infinity pool stretching down to a chapel. I was pretty sure I would not like whatever I attempted to draw.
But the advantage of going drawing with a friend is there’s a bit of peer pressure. I had no choice! I had to come up with something! I remembered the advice I’d picked up from various art books:2
draw the lines as you see them
try to connect them
really look at what you’re drawing
try not to look away
ignore any “this is ugly” thoughts
give into your wonkiness
and committed to the drawing. I had packed my favorite pen, some watercolors, and a travel brush filled with water. The watercolors were the best part.
It was a little wonky, but it got the message across. And I was obsessed with the watercolors. So I kept going.
I even found myself drawing the boring chair in my house that evening, no peer pressure needed.
I share all this because, even though I am the first to say, “Don’t tell me you can’t draw!” I’m actually not far off from that teacher drawing on the board with the disclaimer. The difference is that I’ve practiced suppressing the disclaimer, discovered it’s more fun this way, and want everyone else to feel free to do the same.
So go grab some random materials (the more random, the better), a friend, and give drawing a try!
And thanks for being here!