There is more to life than increasing its speed” Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi.
I don’t usually make new years resolutions. It strikes me as a waste of time since so few of them are kept.At least, that’s always been the case with me.
I’m breaking with my non-tradition this year though, and making one that I think is going to be easy to keep. In fact, I’ve already started doing it so I suppose I’m cheating a little. I’m just resolving to keep doing it for the rest of the year.
My resolution this year is to stop obsessing about my drawing and painting goals and to enjoy my practice for its own sake.
I’ve been thinking about this for a little while, but a couple of things have inspired me to make a more conscious decision about it. The first is the arrival in our lives of a two year old little boy. My wife and I just adopted. Life has a new dimension and is already deeper and richer than I could have imagined. The second is a post I read recently – Sitting and Watching – at one of my favourite blogs, ZenHabits, on taking the time to enjoy things instead of rushing from one goal to the next.
Can being too focused on goals be counter productive?
Since I came back to painting and drawing in 2005 I’ve had a very goal oriented approach to picture making. My goal has been to paint full time some day. To do that, I thought that the main thing I needed to do was to improve my drawing and painting skills.
Undoubtedly true. But I became so focused on improving my skills that I forgot to enjoy making pictures, and that was perhaps my biggest mistake so far. Well, apart from stopping painting in the first place.
I rushed through practice like I rush through life, always trying to achieve the next goal. I believed that achieving each goal would mean that I’d arrived, and my dream of becoming a full-time painter would somehow be realised.
I was always looking for the ‘key’ that would unlock painting for me. What that key was changed depending on what stage I was at with my learning. At each stage, the key I was looking for became my new goal, all-encompassing and obsessively attacked.
At first I thought the key was drawing accuracy. My accuracy was pretty poor. So I practised until it improved.
But it wasn’t enough.
Then I thought the key was value. I practised and practised until my values improved.
I was getting better. But I still hadn’t arrived.
So perhaps the key was colour accuracy. I practised colour, using Munsell to break it down into value, hue and chroma. I’ve yet to write about this fully here, but I devoted a lot of time to finding a method for matching the colours I saw accurately using Munsell chips and a simple colour isolator.
It was very effective. I learned how the local colour of an object was changed by light and shadow across its surface. With practice, I came to understand colour, light and shadow much better. I could represent the colours I saw more accurately and could produce more convincing, life like studies.
By this time I had drawing accuracy, good values and colour accuracy. But still, when I went to make a painting I wasn’t satisfied by what I was producing. Something was still missing. The frustration remained.
I began to think about composition. I practice composition daily now, as I’ve practised drawing accuracy, value and colour. But this time my approach is a little different.
I’m trying to learn from experience: This time I don’t expect to arrive. In fact I don’t want to arrive, because the journey is the point, and should be as pleasurable and enriching as possible; an end in itself.
Not long ago, a fellow blogger interviewed me (part one, part two) and asked a couple of questions about how I got started drawing when I was younger. I hadn’t thought about that for a long time.
As I thought about the kind of drawings I used to do as a kid, I remembered how I felt doing them. I would lose myself completely in them, whether it was a drawing of a robot from imagination or a copy of a drawing of Spider Man. I had no goal, I drew for the sheer pleasure and fascination of making things come alive on paper.
To a large extent, I’ve lost that fascination now.
So here’s the paradox:
By trying so hard to improve my skill so that I could do what I loved, I took that very love out of it. My practice was characterised by striving and frustration, by a fevered desperation to improve.
People would occasionally comment on what a good work ethic I had. But now I think that kind of work ethic might be a less effective way to learn if taken too far, as I believe I did. I’ve come to the conclusion now that it’s much more important to take the time to enjoy the journey. The destination can be left to take care of itself.
I’m not saying that I’m going to stop trying to improve. I’m not saying that I’m going to lose my focus either. In fact I plan to redouble my efforts to develop my drawing and painting skills. I’m designing practice exercises to help develop drawing and panting skills more efficiently and effectively. I spend a lot of time thinking about that now and it’s likely to become the focus of the site in the future.
But I plan to take the pressure off, to do it for the love of it without any particular goal apart from getting better and enjoying myself doing it. Each practice session should be a positive experience, one that leaves me satisfied, not frustrated.
This realisation has also been driven home to me by the nature of the composition practice I’m doing at the moment. This is a relaxing, enjoyable form of practice, one I don’t pressure myself about. I do believe that it’s more effective because of that.
Why does enjoyable practice help you learn faster?
Because learning and developing skills involves changing the brain. It involves letting go of old, useless neural networks and building and then reinforcing new ones. And the neuroscientists tell us that this process works much more effectively when at least two conditions are present: Enjoyment and focused attention.
Enjoyment, because enjoyment releases chemicals into the brain, including dopamine, which aid the building of new networks. Attention because focused attention enhances plasticity in the brain and makes it more malleable, more susceptible to learning.
So my new year’s resolution is simply to enjoy my practice
Since Michelle and I adopted our little boy, we’ve had the privilege of watching his little life awaken and unfold as each new day brings some new discovery for him. It might be something as simple as splashing in puddles. But when he splashes in a puddle, he does so with unreserved, uncomplicated delight. He’s completely immersed in getting himself as muddy as he possibly can. It’s a joy to watch.
So I’m trying to approach this new year with a new mind set. I’m trying to approach each day, and that includes my composition practice, with the same curious joy that splashing in a puddle gives our little boy. I might not always manage it of course, old habits are hard to change. I might even have the odd frustrated tantrum when things don’t go my way.
The frustration of failing to keep up resolutions is similar to the frustration created by failing to reach goals that are too distant to grasp immediately. It can turn quickly into negative feelings about our own capabilities. That’s just not healthy.
As I watch our little boy discover the world around him I realise that these moments won’t come back and that I need to grasp them as eagerly and with as much joy as he does. And I think that’s as true of drawing practice as it is of life.
So for 2012 I’m forgetting about my original goal, I’m just going to enjoy the journey for it’s own sake. I have a feeling I’ll travel faster and lighter that way, and probably travel further too.
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Wise words Paul on enjoying the whole journey, and not the destination. I’ve wasted the last decade doing that, so this year and going forward “toxic” art goals, which creates desperation, will be replaced by joy in learning and accepting nothing is perfect!
Oh! you’re back.
I’m so glad. I really do hope you continue to post more regularly. Your work is a great inspiration to me. I am studying the same Bargue/classical realist, sight-size programme and I am always referring back here to see what you have to say.
Do keep on posting. It’s so helpful to have a place to come and see it happening.
Hi Patrick, nice to hear from you. Seems we’ve reached the same conclusion. I think perhaps the toxic stage was necessary to get to this point though, would you agree?
That’s really nice to hear Hilary, thanks very much.
I’m afraid I’ve been a bit rubbish at keeping the site up to date lately, too much pressure for time. I’ll try to do better!
Hilary, where are you studying by the way? Are you on a course or teaching yourself?
Happy New Year Paul, Michelle and your new little one,
Your beautiful paintings and wise and wonderful posts make me smile. Happy days!
Hello Paul.
Well! I have such a lot to say..!! Firstly, I am sorry that you had lost some of your joy in your learning, but the realization of that is certainly a major step – both in letting go, and in welcome relief. I regularly tell my students that the End really isn’t the point (in the same way that a surfer doesn’t look forward to getting OUT of the water, they enjoy riding that wave!), and if they let go of the End, if they simply enjoy DOING it, they would be happier, more fulfilled and get the most incredible joy from the step away from the rest of their lives. Like time out. Sometimes students would walk through my studio and comment warmly on a painting of mine which was half way through and clearly REALLY ANNOYING me, as I was struggling with it… And they’d say, ‘if I did that I’d be so happy…’ To which I reply, ‘do I look HAPPY??’ !! This simply meant that its about the striving, the trying and the not knowing the outcome, not the happiness of completion. If we were happy at the finish we’d not start another one. Truly, we are never Finished. I wonder if you have always worked on your own? There is great joy and comfort in sharing creative head space with others. And you know Paul, being a full time painter – thats a tough tough life choice, and not suited to everyone. It can be lonely, and frustrating – and a market place of criticism and over-judgement. Paint for You. Paint for love. Paint WITH your son. Admire how he may become absorbed with his colouring-in, as children draw for the sake of Drawing. So I’d say, rather than Keep on posting, which can become a responsibility to others, do everything that feels right for you, today. The need to make marks is, I believe, as natural as breathing, to ALL of us. It’s a fundamental way of communicating. It doesn’t have to be Right, it just has to Be. Your learning has just taken a delicious new direction, and hey, no MAP! Most excellent!
You will be great. You will be fantastic. Trust me – I know these things. Very best regards to you. Julie
I love this article. It is exactly what I have had in mind recently. Your post was a verification of my being on the right track. Thank you for sharing!
Happy 2012! May you meet and exceed every goal you set!
I’ve been thinking along the same lines these past couple of years. I’m old enough now that I probably won’t have a ‘real’ art career, so why am I rushing and pressuring myself to get the ‘good stuff?’ This is the good stuff! Thanks for a great post, especially the Paradox Point. And congratulations on your little son! We’ll hope to see a drawing of him one day soon.
Great post! I enjoyed your wise observations very much. Thank you for your help. I hope you have a terrific new year.
Julie, hi, Great to hear from you. I hope you have a great year too. In must be a bit nippy up there in Yorkshire right now!
Julie (D) – thanks for that fantastic comment and great to hear from you too. I like the surfer analogy, very apt.
>If we were happy at the finish we’d not start another one.
I guess that’s true, yes. But perhaps we can aim for being happier whilst we do it, however the end result comes out. I think we’re probably saying the same thing in different words.
>Paint for You. Paint for love. Paint WITH your son.
Now that sounds like very good advice to me. I can’t post any details about him or any drawings of him because I have to preserve his anonymity. But I can post his paintings 🙂
>Trust me – I know these things.
I do 🙂 Thanks again Julie.
Hi Gaye, thanks for popping in and commenting. That’s really good to hear.
>May you meet and exceed every goal you set!
Haha! I’ve already managed that I think since I’ve decided not to set any this year. What a great start to the year, I’ve already achieved all my goals!
Hi Kate, thanks for commenting. We understand one another I think.
>I’m old enough now that I probably won’t have a ‘real’ art career, so why am I rushing and pressuring myself to get the ‘good stuff?’ This is the good stuff!
Absolutely, I couldn’t have put it any better myself.
>We’ll hope to see a drawing of him one day soon.
Unfortunately not, see above. But I’ll post his own work and stuff we do together. At the moment he seems much more interested in music than painting though!
Hi Catherine, and thank you in return for taking the time to let me know. It’s always encouraging to hear that someone finds something useful here. I hope you have a great year too.
Very comforting post and comment. Thank you. Have a great year.
Hi Paul,
what a great post, it’s like a mirror that’s being held up to me. I’m just like you, clutching on to methods and books, practising and reading until I’m ‘finally good enough’ to start painting. But what that does is only raise the bar for yourself, so you’ll never live up to your own expectations. I too feel that I’m at a crossroads at the moment and have to start enjoying things a bit more. I wish you a lot of fun, and I’ll keep coming back here to read up on your progress.
Cheers,
Arco
Paul
I think through your drawing, value and colour work you were, and helping others, Learning To See! Job done. Here’s to the next phase and a great 2012 Paul
Cheers,
Robert.
Hi Paul
I think you are being too hard on yourself and have mistaken exuberance as the only form of joy. Satisfaction is also joy but from a slower, deeper source. Both are wonderful. I cannot imagine that you do not feel satisfaction at the impressive skills you have developed!!! If there is a change to be made I think it is only in acknowledging that a work well done, a goal accomplished deserves a celebration. So cheers to all the hard work that now allows you to practice art joyfully with a trunk full of skills you have worked so hard and doggedly to obtain.
Hi Annemieke, thanks for the comment. I hope you have a great year too.
Hi Arco,
>so you’ll never live up to your own expectations
Exactly! Let me know how you get on. I don’t have any strategies for letting go of those goals, but I guess the decision to do it is at least a start. And thanks, you have a good year too.
Hi Robert, great to see you’re still around. That’s actually quite an inspiring thought, I hadn’t really looked at it that way. Thanks for posting it.
Hi Linda,
>I cannot imagine that you do not feel satisfaction at the impressive skills you have developed.
Some, yes, true. But not enough to cancel out the frustration of the way I was approaching it.
I don’t intend to stop trying to develop my skills and to help others do the same, but I do plan to try to do it with a different mind-set, one that takes the time to enjoy the process for what it is and therefore – hopefully – get much more satisfaction from it. It’s precisely because I wasn’t getting satisfaction from what I was doing that I feel the need to change. I hope that makes sense.
Hi I have read your notes ,posts and looked at your paintings a lot because I had never broken it all down like that,into parts and it was enlightening to see you seeing and dealing with these skills.I think you are now dealing with all of them together now and the why and what of it all as well which should be a good if not great thing.I have just taken my brushes up again and hope after the long 10 year gap I can make some some proress and some half desent art .I will continue to follow your progress and read your brave words. all the best Tony
Hi Tony. I believe that breaking painting and drawing down into separate skills and practising each one individually is a very effective way to progress. I think it allows you to focus more, and that helps you move forward.
Also, painting and drawing is such a complex set of skills, it’s difficult to see progress if you just go at them all at once, it can get a little discouraging.
You will be able to make progress. If you practise you’ll get better, that’s a given. Personally I find that quite a liberating thought. Please feel free to email me if you want to chat more. I’ll be happy to help if I can, time permitting of course.
It’s been a while again since I’ve commented, but I felt compelled to because, well, I suspect that you may be my British artistic doppelganger. I have been going through a very similar realization in my own artistic journey. (Also, I have a two year old daughter, how crazy is that?) I hit a point recently where I realized that pushing hard to develop my representational skills had killed my enjoyment of the work, and for a while I floundered, wondering if I should just give it up entirely. Then I read this book which is a reconstitution of Zen ideas (perhaps you’ve heard of Eckhart Tolle – being an engineer, the words ‘spiritual teacher’ tend to make me flinch, but that is how he’s known) who focuses a lot on mindfulness and focusing on the now, and realized that the point to artistic work isn’t to produce a product, it’s the act of working itself. It changed my entire perspective. Now I’m starting to love drawing and painting again, and to see it as an exploration rather than a task master. This post really spoke to me, and also made me laugh. My daughter already knows instinctively what it has taken me the past nine months to figure out- or perhaps to remember. Anyway, just wanted to let you know that your posts are both entertaining and inspiring for many other fellow strugglers out here. Keep it up!
Hi Paul, good to read you.
Yes, I believe you’re right, you won’t believe this but my motto on a forum is
The journey is the destination
and I’ve just changed it in my profile to:
Enjoy
So there you go – enjoy! 🙂
Found this blog when I was googling Loomis. (Glad to know I’m not the only one who got stuck at the “planes” section of his “Head and Hands” instruction book.) I drew in my youth but career and children demanded I give up certain hobbies, at least for awhile. I enjoyed reading this post because I approached my re-introduction to art from a mirror perspective of you. I was all about the enjoying the process and fairly oblivious to the end product. Certainly, nobody has looked at anything I’ve ever drawn and thought, “wow. She must have worked really hard.”
It is only recently (last year or so) that I have felt a strong desire to improve my work. Hence Loomis and his damn planes.
Hi Koren,
I’m very glad you took the time to comment again, it’s great to hear that this post resonated with you.
I didn’t recognise Tolle’s name, but I’ve just been to his site and recognise “The Power of Now” although I haven’t read it. It sounds lie it would be right up my street – is that the book you’re referring to? I hope so, it just went on my Amazon wish list!
>the point to artistic work isn’t to produce a product, it’s the act of working itself.
Absolutely, that’s exactly what I’m getting at with this post.
>see it as an exploration
Ditto here. It becomes so much more interesting when that happens don’t you find? It’s not so much a case of making yourself practice, as I used to make myself, it’s more finding the time to do as much as you’d like because it’s enjoyable, not a chore.
Hi Jon, great to see you still around.
>Enjoy
Perfect.
Hi JayDub, welcome to the site, it’s great to see you here. I hope you’ll find it useful.
You make an interesting point. Do you think it was better to approach your return to the easel as you have done or do you think (as I get the impression perhaps that you might) that a combination of our two approaches would be most effective?
Perhaps we’ll meet in the middle some day?
Hi, Paul, thanks for the welcome.
A balanced approach is probably ideal. Perhaps it depends upon the situation of each individual artist. Had I come back to my pencils last year thinking, “this better look good” it would have felt like yet another chore. On the other hand, if I had done this 20 years ago (when I had far fewer demands on my time), I would have lost focus without a concrete goal.
Had I come back to my pencils last year thinking, “this better look good” it would have felt like yet another chore. On the other hand, if I had done this 20 years ago (when I had far fewer demands on my time), I would have lost focus without a concrete goal.
This is so true. This statement really encapsulates the struggles of employed would-be artists with kids and/or spouses quite well. There is definitely a tension between maintaining enough structure and discipline to do the work, and yet not allowing it to *feel* like work. Sometimes it feels like trying to grasp a cloud with my hand.
I’m sure you’re right JayDub. But perhaps even 20 years ago it would have felt like a bit of a chore if it was all about the goal? 20 years ago I was doing commercial work and it most definitely felt like a chore – despite the fact that I’d much rather be doing that now than what I’m actually doing for a living. funny how we don’t appreciate what we have when we’re younger.
>There is definitely a tension between maintaining enough structure and discipline to do the work, and yet not allowing it to *feel* like work.
I definitely feel this Koren. I try to get around it by having a part of the day set aside (early morning before the little feller wakes up) but not having anything specific to do in that time. I find the hour I set aside goes with frightening speed!
Wow, this post hits home for me. I love my work, but I have a hard time creating art for my own fun and enjoyment. It’s like, if it’s not for my job, then I’m goofing off somehow!
Thanks for putting this into words.Funny how artists always beat themselves up, huh?
Hi Lisa,
>It’s like, if it’s not for my job, then I’m goofing off somehow!
Hehe, well I know your job is a pretty serious use of your art skills. But let’s make a deal: I’ll give you permission to just goof off and enjoy it sometimes this year if you’ll do the same for me 🙂
Paul, again another brilliant, elegantly-written blog episode. You nailed it.
I feel that I must add:
If like Constable, Ray Charles, Jamie Oliver (amongst other noteworthy individuals) one learns to truly love and enjoy the continuous practice of learning, it all becomes play. As someone (who for whatever reason) absolutely has to visually analyse things, having kids forces me to (play continuously and) see things from a wonderous perspective
It’s deepened my appreciation of so many things (particularly, life and work.)
Can’t say if my painting’s gotten any better, though.
Still don’t know if I’m coming or going…
Hi Shaun,
Excellent point succinctly put!
>Can’t say if my painting’s gotten any better, though.
Well, if my vote counts for anything it certainly has.
But what I really love – and I mean love – about your work is that haunting, nostalgic, dream quality it’s suffused with. No matter how good you get, please never lose that.
For anyone who wants to see what I’m talking about, have a look at Shaun’s wonderful painting Blog
Have a great year Shaun, let me know when you’re back in the smoke. I fancy another gallery visit with you.
Whoa, for such kind compliments it’s absolutely has to be the Cortauld, next time. Bring the thermos, I’ll take care of the sandwiches.
Thanks for talking me up, Paul.
Buon lavoro
Ha! Courtauld it is, they’d just better have the Tiepolo’s up this time.
Hope you like your coffee strong.
I follow your blog and always find your posts helpful and inspiring. I have tried a lot of the same things, though I am not as persistent as you are, and tend to hop around more from skill to skill– I certainly agree that directed practice has to be part of it. I’m 70, so perhaps that has influenced my attitude that I’d better enjoy the practice –but I still have hopes of achieving more skill. I gave up painting as a college student because my skills were poor, and at that point I didn’t realize there were ways to improve them, and the teaching I had didn’t help. It’s hard to enjoy doing when you’re not getting the satisfaction of a product–but if you feel the process improving, that brings satisfaction.
Judy
Hi Judy,
Sorry for the late reply.
>I’m 70, so perhaps that has influenced my attitude that I’d better enjoy the practice –but I still have hopes of achieving more skill.
Well, according to the latest brain science, we can carry on learning new skills and improving the ones we have pretty much until we pop our cloggs. the old adage that you can’t teach an old dog (or artist) new tricks is just plain wrong.
Here’s an article on how our brains continue to develop as we age.. Want to learn a new language at 80? No problem. In fact it’s a good idea, apparently. So stretching your artistic skills is eminently possible at any age – which gives us all hope!
When the cellist Pablo Casals was in his 80’s, he still had a regular practice schedule. One of his students asked him why he still practised. “Because I’m making progress” he said.
>the teaching I had didn’t help.
I feel for you. Sadly very common for a lot of people wanting to learn art from the 60’s on I think. , I experienced that too.
>if you feel the process improving, that brings satisfaction
I completely agree. Thanks for sharing a little of your story Judy.
I’m not surprised that you have come to this position….having visited your web site on and off over the years the very same thoughts occurred to me. Spending all ones time trying to get to the point where one is in total control, some sort of Olympian viewpoint wherby you are master of all you survey will never come. I’ve been on the same journey….I guess it’s to do with personality types and seeking perfectionism. Incidentally it is interesting how perfectionism and depression are often linked. Taking time out to just enjoy what you can do just for what it is without constantly evaluating it is an excellent idea.
I would like to add that I think the work youve done to improve technique and the posts have been tremendous and really it would be great to see it collated into a book.After all most art instruction books are rubbish and yours would be really useful.
Hi Tim, thanks for taking the time to comment.
>Olympian viewpoint
Hehe, nicely put.
>I guess it’s to do with personality types and seeking perfectionism.
I have no doubt you’re right about that. There seems to be more than the normal complement of perfectionists in the arts too, wouldn’t you say? I wonder why.
>perfectionism and depression are often linked.
I didn’t know that, but it makes sense. As an aside, I’ve found regular aerobic exercise (in my case cycling and swimming), regular meditation and making a point of enjoying my drawing practice to be an effective combination for combating both.
>yours would be really useful
Thank you Tim! That really means a lot to me. I am working on something, although it’s going to be some time coming. It will probably be published here as an eBook. I’m trying to evolve some exercises to help people like me improve too. That too will take some time but I hope to be starting to share it some time later this year.
Your words give me great encouragement, thanks.
I came across your page this evening by google searching “how to practice drawing”, which lead me to your “effective practice” article.
I’m only 22, but I didn’t start drawing until I was about 17. Before that, I really had not put any time into drawing, because I had no talent (which I 80%-heartedly believe does not exist, haha)
Since then, I have practiced off and on, and have managed to get up to a much better skill level than ever. Now I’m at a point where I’m looking into ways to focus my improvement in the fundamentals…
But I just can’t seem to get into practicing regularly (or enjoying it, for that matter)! Somehow I allow myself to get hung up on the fact that my practice just…sucks. I feel this mental quirk that says “It’s not enjoyable at all if you’re not good at doing it”.
I know I want to draw well, I know I need to practice, and I know I need to enjoy practicing. Do you or anyone else have some sort of insight of getting over hating that the earlier practice sessions just seem hopeless?
I hope I haven’t been a huge downer on everyone, but I felt that I really needed to ask!
I don’t want there to be any confusion though, what I’ve read on this site so far tonight is well written and inspirational. Thank you for your insights!
Hi David, thanks for taking the time to comment.
>I just can’t seem to get into practicing regularly
I think it might help you to look at how you approach your practice. Do you try to do a set amount of time at each practice session? If this is too long it might become a stumbling block. What kind of tasks are you setting for yourself? Are they interesting to you or are you doing them because you think you should?
>I feel this mental quirk that says “It’s not enjoyable at all if you’re not good at doing it”.
I do think it’s important to feel good about what you’re doing. Little daily achievements are invaluable in encouraging you to keep going and progress. I have a feeling you might be setting your sights a little high with what you expect from your practice. Certainly that’s something I used to do a lot, and it can be very counter-productive.
>Do you or anyone else have some sort of insight of getting over hating that the earlier practice sessions just seem hopeless?
I might have, but I need to know where you are now, where you want to be and what you’re doing about getting there if I’m going to be able to help you.
Firstly, what kind of work do you really like? What kind of drawing do you imagine yourself doing when you’ve achieved your goal and can draw? If you’re not happy answering that question publicly then please feel free to email me.
In general, I would say that approaching practice like this might help:
Regularity is much, much more important than total time spent. If you have trouble getting the regularity going, then start small – really small. Try to do 5 – 10 minutes each day. The important thing here is that you condition yourself to practice regularly. Don’t worry about how much achieve, that will come in due time.
Set yourself a fairly basic task to begin with, something that you can see improvement on. It might be an idea to start with accuracy, for example. Take a drawing you really like, and try to copy some of the shapes from it in your daily practice. Then trace them, and see how close you came. Try doing it sight size, it’ll train your eye very well. After a short while, you should see your accuracy begin to improve and you’ll know you’re making progress. That’ll help to release you form the feeling that you dislike practising because you’re not getting anywhere.
Go easy on yourself. Understand that learning to draw takes a long time. You’re young and have a lifetime of practice ahead of you if you choose, you have the time to become really, really good. So take it easy and don’t pressure yourself too much.
For many years I’ve been trying to learn how to enjoy scribbling. I have a tiny bit of talent ( http://fc00.deviantart.net/fs70/f/2011/183/0/8/przycisk_do_papieru_by_szelenbaum-d3kr61y.png ) and I’m wasting it throught all my 3 decades long life. Six years ago I registered on DA in order to somehow force myself to scribbling. The matter of drawing really attracts me… as long as I don’t have to draw anything. There’s always this blank screen of white that paralyses me deep inside to the point I can’t move my hand or take a deep breath (and my heart’s neurosis isn’t helping). The worse thing that my teacher in school could say to me was: “draw whatever you like” which always ended is full paralyse.
I’ve once made a challenge to draw a scribble a day for whole 2 weeks. I did it, but the end I felt exhausted and full of grief.
I don’t want to make a masterpiece, I just want to scribble my original characters with dots instead of eyes. Just why can’t I?
Hi Kasia,
I think forcing yourself to do it is the wrong way to go about it. It’ll never be anything but a source of negative feelings for you, and that won’t help you progress.
I think you’d do much better to take teh pressure of yourself and try to find a way to make the practice enjoyable first, before you try to do anything else.
In my experience, the kind of frustration you’re experiencing springs from the desire to create something you don’t feel capable of. Your work falls short of your idea of what it should be.
Does that sound familiar to you?
Email me if your’e not comfortable talking about this publicly in the comments here.
Hi and thank you for the reply. Also, please forgive me for any mistakes – english is not my first language.
Yes, I think I’m too hard for myself, however in the same time I find that thing absurdal, because I want to draw not so complicated figures with dots instead of eyes, for Heaven’s sake! I waste a lot of time on placing those dots on face, f.e., and I’m never happy with the results.
Yesterday I tried this exercise with drawing Picasso’s work upside down and I was trying so hard that I completely ruined it halfway. Due to fatigue and frustration I ended up in “I don’t care anymore” mode of body and mind. And then… I got a better result! Not perfect, but much better.
However, this “careless” state of mind is not such a good thing either as I’m not avoiding easy mistakes then.
I know this is a bit off-topic, but I would like to ask you if you know any exercise for someone who is fixated about drawing only in one direction. F.e. I draw portraits of characters that are only looking to the right, never left. For some reason I can’t change this state of things.
Hi Kaisa,
It sounds to me like you’re just pushing yourself too hard. I think you might benefit from pulling back a bit.
Perhaps try this for a while:
Practise every day, but just for a small amount of time. Start with 10 minutes. Be sure to stop when the ten minutes are up, whatever stage you’re at with your drawing. You can pick the drawing up again tomorrow if you want.
In that 10 minutes, don’t try to produce anything finished. Try to work without a set goal. Give yourself permission to fail, knowing that you get another shot tomorrow and again the day after. You don’t have to get it right today. Maybe you want to practise drawing a face looking left for 10 minutes, whatever takes your fancy.
Give it a couple of weeks doing no more than that and get back to me.
>Not perfect, but much better.
Perfect doesn’t ever happen in art. Much better is is a major success in our world.
And this isn’t off topic at all, it’s completely on topic. This site is about practice. I bet there’s other people out there facing exactly the same difficulty as you, and they may draw strength from this if they come across it.
Thanks for being brave enough to share your difficulties with us.
You know, I’ve once asked someone about the idea of drawing everyday for a limited period of time (few minutes). But the person said that is a stupid idea, because – as he said – I’ll be focused on filling up the time limit and nothing more.
But today I learned about “blind contour drawing” and it really sounds like fun. I never feel good about my finished works, but blind contour drawings are supposed to look bizzarre anyway, so after my first BCD I felt quite good. I think I’ll like this practise.
Thank you for the advice!! I’ll be checking on your blog!
P.S. I’ve found a book for those who wants to learn how to draw manga and there was this paragraph bout the fixation I have – the author said it doesn’t matter as one can flip his sketch and trace it over. Hmm…
>the person said that is a stupid idea
For them it might be. You need to know whether it’s a stupid or a good idea for you.
The only way to find that out is to try it for yourself.
I see you’re working through the Betty Edwards book. I think that’s a great place to start.
>after my first BCD I felt quite good
Great. If blind contour drawing works for you, I’d say that would be a great candidate for your 10 minutes a day. If you struggle with 10, make it 5.
As an absolute newcomer to the joys of art for its own sake I can understand that it is the journey that is the important thing, which gives us pleasure. Just so much to learn from your we site. I am enjoying the journey.
Hi Nigel,
I think it’s great that you’re looking at it that way now. When you’re at the beginning it’s easy to get caught up in progress and forget to enjoy it – at least, that was the case with me.
personally I think we do much better by allowing ourselves the time and space to enjoy it. In fact, I think it’s necessary in many ways in order to progress at all. something about contemporary life seems to make that hard to do though!
Could you please responde me on my mails?
I have sent you three times waiting your feedback.
Regards,
Han
Hi Chul-Hun, sorry but you must appreciate that I run this site for free around a full-time job and a family. My time is limited and whilst I try to help people as much as I can, I can’t respond to every individual request for training – especially when those requests come often and expect personal training for free.