I planned on spending this summer expanding my creative repetoire (if I have one), by trying new media, pushing my artistic boundaries, being “messy” and sketching more. I have to be honest, up until now, I have let myself down. Besides some client work, I have not been drawing or creating. I wake up every morning and tell myself “today is the day” and then I start to clean the house, file paperwork, reorganise my jars of buttons… you know the stuff, the stuff we do when we don’t want to do what we should. It’s not that I don’t want to draw, because if I’m honest, it’s one of my favourite things to do and always has been.

Ever since I could hold a crayon, I was drawing on walls (only the once, I soon learned my lesson after a stern shouting at and moved onto paper). I attended Montessori school (for those you not familiar with the Montessori educational ethics, read this.), which basically allowed me to spend my days in primary school drawing, so long as it related to what we were learning. And draw I did, especially horses (if I couldn’t have one, I was going to draw them, damnit). Though I didn’t draw just horses, I drew everything, animals, people, situations, feelings. It came naturally to me and brought me praise for the most part, so I continued to do it, encouraged. Draw, draw, draw, all day long.

Jump forward an indiscriminate number of years and I enrolled on an Illustration degree. That’s when I stopped drawing, as I knew it. Many illustrators who took the path of formal education will tell you the same; When they joined their university course, they too, life-long drawers, stopped drawing. I wanted to change that this summer. I wanted to do what I used to do and evolve it to fit the work I do on the course. Entering my third and final year in September, I look back and see quite clearly I did not spend years one or two doing so. I created work I thought would make others happy and not for myself. Don’t get me wrong, some of the work I did pleases me, I’m not THAT self-discriminating (okay, maybe I am), but the majority of it, I could happily never see again.

I recently bought some watercolours (to replace my long lost W&N set) and have had a go. For the first time, yesterday, I spent time drawing and painting. Granted, nothing great came from it, but it allowed to me hold a pencil again and get back into it. It’s nice to move away from the digital work I’ve so depended on for these last two years (it’s just so easy and I’m just so… lazy?) and back to the traditional methods of pen to paper.

I have a couple of projects lined up that will allow me to carry on reigniting my passion for drawing and will share them when I can. In the meantime, now that I remember how it feels, I am going to draw, draw, draw, all day long.

As you can see, nothing great or exciting, but it’s a start. Though I do quite like the second piece and wouldn’t mind taking it further than the doodle-stage. As far as the watercolour on top goes, whilst it’s rather uninspired, it was nice to pick up a paint brush for the first time in about 11 years. Maybe next time, before I sit down to paint, I’ll actually set myself a subject for context. Look at me, thinking about context – I’ve come a long way.