Words have been causing me some problems lately. I want to say things, to spew language as I always have, but when I try, I get stuck almost immediately. After a thousand words of a story I grind to a halt, and trying to move forward feels like trying to rock a car out of thick mud.
I’m sure it’s purely psychological. My perfectionism has become a barrier to productivity. My aching desire to have my writing matter and be successful (whatever that means) has caused me to freeze up creatively.
This is why I am drawing more. I’ve always enjoyed drawing, but I’ve rarely attached any “THIS IS THE MEANING OF MY LIFE” pressure to it. It hasn’t been blown up in my head into THE THING I WAS ALWAYS MEANT TO DO the way writing has, so I’m able to participate in it as a pleasing, almost meditative activity without a lot of extra baggage attached to it. And thus, it’s a way to satisfy my need for creative exploration and expression without antagonizing my internal perfectionist demons too much.
If anything, I’m almost proud of the lack of perfection in my drawings. As much as I appreciate the awesome power of a beautifully-rendered realistic drawing, I find myself more drawn to slightly lopsided, offbeat forms of illustration. These days I’m particularly tickled by the creations of Allie Brosh (Hyperbole and a Half), Rubyetc, and Matthew Inman (The Oatmeal), who all manage to capture complex absurdity with deceptively simple-looking drawings. That is the kind of work that really excites and inspires me, more so than the still lifes I’ve been painstakingly working on in my night drawing class (though that has value, certainly… Multiple values, if done right, right??).
This morning’s offering is a gloriously imperfect rendering of a three-year-old basset hound/lab mix named Duke, who my boyfriend and I are seriously considering adopting:
I admit my version of him doesn’t do him justice, but I found the process of trying to bring him to life in my notebook satisfying all the same. There’s no agenda in the drawing, no expectation of greatness. It’s just an exercise and a way to keep my mind busy.
(We’ve already decided, by the way, that if we get this dog we’re going to make his full name Duke Silver, after Ron Swanson’s sax-playing jazz god alter ego from Parks and Recreation. So there’s that.)
I realize this is an awful lot of words for someone claiming words have escaped her, but I am nothing if not a walking (typing?) contradiction. Still, I’m likely to be spamming the internet with more and more doodles of varying quality and subject matter, so all I ask is that you be prepared. There’s a lot of weird stuff in my head waiting to come out. Just like this sketch I did from a stock photo of a panda climbing out a window:
Just like that.