Making art, like anything else I suppose, is the practice of getting out of your own way

what is THAT all about?

So, I’m sitting in bed, watching a movie about art and artists, specifically “I’m Not There,” and after much hand-wringing about whether I had the right lighting,

or what mediums should I use

and were they messy?

and shouldn’t I be allowed to be messy in my own adult bed?

and all kinds of nonsense that happened silently in my head while watching this film, I finally settled on a sketchbook and too many pens and pencils to draw with.

My hand froze. What do I want to draw? Is this a doodle situation, no pressure, or am I trying to DO something?

I started with an exercise, just letting the pencil move over the paper while shifting how tight or loose I hold the pencil. Then it was time to look at what I was working with, hold it close and far to scan for shapes and depth that I could pull out and define. This is my favorite part, the focus and alternating between penetrating and retreating gazes, filling in the gaps with my imagination.

I found fingers and a hand. I found shoulders and a posture. I found teeth and an eye. and in the end I was quite proud. Is it done? probably not, but maybe? The point is it happened. After what felt like endless internal monologuing and a hefty freeze response, I made a drawing.

And I love it.

And I love the artist who made it.

This is what we do, and it’s the most human thing we can do; we create, sometimes not knowing what we are creating until we are done. But isn’t that something? We are humans and humans create. What will you create today?