On Fostering a Habit of Daily Creative Practice and The Joy of Email Newsletters

Pictured above - At age 7 or so, I made my own satirical Playboy booklet.  Playboy Magazine, was on the coffee tables of many households in the 1970s.  As you can see I was clearly a VERY strange child.  

Hello there. I hope you are managing okay.  It can be challenging, in light of world events such as the war in Ukraine, to find solace. I try to counter unimaginably awful news with occasional good news stories, if only to remind myself that humans are as capable of altruism and courage as they are of cruelty and wonton destruction. In the case of Ukraine, let us hope that the former will triumph over the latter.

The impulse to create, to bring beauty to the world, even in the most terrible of times, is a uniquely human trait.   If you like, you can skip the part where I talk about my own foray into creative practice and scroll down to the end of this post, where I share links to pages and newsletters that I think are well worth devoting your time to.

Two years ago, as an antidote to the emotional and economic uncertainty of the pandemic (my job of 25 years disappeared, literally overnight) I registered for an online art class. As a child, I loved drawing and cartooning but by my late teens, I stopped making art altogether. My childhood bestie, Naomi, had a natural aptitude for drawing. From a young age, she made photo realistic drawings that won instant accolades. My own drawings, by comparison, had the flaws and malapportionment of typical children's drawings. What I did have a natural facility for was writing. I received encouragement from teachers from a young age that I should write stories.

My parents, both militant perfectionists, impressed upon me from a young age, that if I did something, I had to do it perfectly or not at all.  I decided that if I did not possess an ingrained aptitude for visual art, that continuing to draw was not a worthy pursuit.  The spontaneous joy incurred from drawing, just for the sake it, irrespective of whether I was any good or not, was summarily lost.  Being impractical was not my family's ethos, and I had yet to figure out for myself what was worth going after in order to survive in the real world as an adult.

In spite of my zeal for the written word, I did not pursue a writing career.  And, up until recently, I never imagined I would ever pick up a pen and begin to draw. Yet visual art and writing remained a part of my life, if only tangentially.  I love cinema, also a visual creative medium, and in my twenties and thirties, I obsessively watched movies. I studied filmmaking, I volunteered on film shoots. I worked at a repertory art house theatre where I eventually attained the position of Program Chair. I curated small film festivals. I modeled for art classes for extra cash while I formally studied acting at the University of Calgary. Around that time, I fell in love with graphic novels and I took a part time job at a comic book store so that I might indulge my love of the medium.  Every one of my friends have some sort of creative vocation.  Art  has always been an integral and essential part of my life. Music, art, books and films have sustained me, lifting me out of the doldrums and saving me from sinking into intractable despair.

You would think with all of that, that I would have devoted all of my free time to creating.  But, mostly I have been an admirer, a fan-girl. I waved my pom poms for others while relegating myself to the sidelines.  I never felt worthy of pursuing a creative discipline. I wrote poetry good enough to publish but kept it tucked in my desk drawer.  I did not audition for acting roles when I was in university even though I enjoyed acting and I was decent at it.  In filmmaking classes I felt intimidated and out of place in what was then an overwhelmingly male-dominated discipline.  

Fundamentally, I was certain I was never going to measure up, so why should I bother trying?  Better to vanquish foolish impulses and get a "proper, practical job".  Then there was the immediate issue of economic survival amidst the withering economic recession of the late 80s/early 880s..  With very few jobs, any sort of  creative life seemed like a pipe dream.

If this all sounds like a lament for what may have been, it isn't.  I do not blame my parents, who did not consciously or deliberately try to stymie me. They were concerned for my welfare and an artist's life is difficult. And, when it came to drawing at least, I did not exactly distinguish myself.  I lacked the "killer" instinct necessary to become an actor or filmmaker and, while I wrote some poems that were categorically, empirically good, I am firmly in the middle of the pack when it comes to my writing abilities. Sure, I am "good" but I am no Joe Brainard.  I have long been reconciled with all of this and I do not see the point in prevaricating on what "might have" been.

Though any ambitions I may have had to become an artist by vocation have long vanished, the urge to create has never gone away, and this is how I found myself, in the early days of Covid-19, signing up for an online class at sketchbookskool.com (they do spell school that way) titled, appropriately, "How To Draw Without Talent".  It seemed like kismet. I love to draw, but I am bad at it (or so I thought).  The fee was $25.00, a bargain. The opportunity was too good to pass up.  

The class delighted me in myriad ways. The primary takeaway, and this blew my mind, is that one can learn to draw without having some sort of innate aptitude.  This is a school of thought I had never been exposed to before. I can actually LEARN how to do this?  I was intrigued!

I was tentative and terrified the first time I put pen to paper. I was intensely self-recriminating  I learned, with the encouragement of instructor Danny Gregory, to silence my inner critic, which Danny  refers to as "the monkey".  He has even written a book about it, which I highly recommend by the way, check it out here: https://www.amazon.ca/Shut-Your-Monkey-Control-Critic/dp/1440341133 .   

The course material was fun, some of it was a tad frustrating, but that was because I was yet to dispel the notion that one has to be instantaneously perfect to be "worthy".  

I have not been hired as a shill for Sketchbook Skool but I do think the site is a good resource for artists and individuals who wish to extend themselves creatively but are feeling nervous.  Once you sign up for a calss, you gain access to the social media platform (Skoolyard) which, importantly, unlike Facebook or Twitter, functions as a motivational tool rather than a procrastination tool. Also, unlike Facebook, the atmosphere is convivial and welcoming rather than antagonistic and contrarian.  There are also all sorts of helpful videos also. Because I was happy with the site's content I joined Sketchbook Skool's Spark program. Spark enables me to have access to the entire course library for a monthly fee. There are also daily live zoom classes helmed by professional instructors that I can paint along to.

Of course, if you wanted to do what I did, you can try and do it on your own.  There  books at the library on drawing and lots of online resources.  Or you can forget about methodology and just draw or doodle for the sheer pleasure of the act.  I do find drawing uniquely calming and centering because you are required to focus wholly, without reserve.  In our distracted computer age, there is little opportunity to concentrate on any one thing for any period of time. I happen like the Sketchbook site because it has all resources for learning  in one place. However, it may not be tenable for everyone.

Here is a link to Sketchbook Skool's Youtube page, if you are curious and you would like to get an inkling of what the site is like.

https://www.youtube.com/c/SketchBookSkool

A few more resources and sources of inspiration unrelated to Sketchbook Skool, are listed as follows:

I have long been a fan of the colourful illustrations of August Wren. Check out her work here: https://www.instagram.com/augustwren/?hl=en.   

Jennifer's (aka August Wren) book, 100 Days of Drawing has motivated me to draw every day in 2022. I haven't missed a day yet!  https://www.amazon.ca/100-Days-Drawing-Guided-Sketchbook/dp/141973217X/ref=asc_df_141973217X/?tag=googleshopc0c-20&linkCode=df0&hvadid=293000279019&hvpos=&hvnetw=g&hvrand=3618968097117620203&hvpone=&hvptwo=&hvqmt=&hvdev=c&hvdvcmdl=&hvlocint=&hvlocphy=9001599&hvtargid=pla-523992930638&psc=1

I love to receive email newsletters and two art related favourites I will list as follows:

 Danny Gregory, artist and author, is the aforementioned individual to whom I owe my foray into the world of drawing and painting.  Gregory's musings are insightful and galvanizing. You can subscribe to his weekly newsletter here for a bit of inspiration.

https://sketchbookskool.com/dannys-list/

Another source of creative inspiration is Betty Ann Lampman's monthly Art Journal, Feed the Monster.  Betty Ann, a prodigiously talented artist, creates exquisite photo realistic portraits. We are fortunate to own two of her works.  You may subscribe to her newsletter here: https://balampman.substack.com/

Painter Roy Green's multilayered paintings are the equivalent of mood boosting serotonin  Check out his works here: https://www.instagram.com/rgreenpaint/

Follow Canadian born artist (now living in Germany) Kate Waters here. Kate uses photographs onto which she layers paint. The results are pretty spectacular. https://www.instagram.com/katejwaters/

Victoria artist Shawn Shepherd's works are  a marvel: https://www.shawnshepherd.com/

Well, that is about it for this week folks! I hope you have a good week and please do not hesitate to comment if anything strikes a chord with you.  By for now!  Take care! xx