I've also noticed that when I do more than one painting of the same thing, they look different. It's an intriguing idea that the perception/perspective of the moment is channeled through our brains to our hands. I thought that by doing a second painting of something I was "correcting" things I didn't like about the first one, but your post has inspired me to realize that maybe that's not what it's about, really.
Thanks for commenting! That’s an interesting take on it. I don’t know that always when I do something again, it is better or improved. And that becomes interesting in terms of our own inability to actually just repeat the same thing twice in a row. I would say typically if we draw the same coffee cup a dozen times we will, through familiarity, find that the drawings improve and become more closely and accurately representational. But as you say, that might not always be the case.
Yours is one of the VERY few Substacks that I actually read every week, although then I have to try not to go down rabbit holes of things and older letters you link to!
Thank you so very much! I really appreciate this comment and knowing that you are finding something in this package or bundle of words and art each week that has meaning to you. Thank you.
“Overall, they are exceptionally wonky.” This. This right here is what makes them great, at least to me. I absolutely love the wonk, as I’m sure you know. It’s such a welcoming thing to see artists who are willing to allow that to happen and are willing to put it out into the world, to show that everything doesn’t need to be polished and perfect.
Thanks so much, Rebecca. I appreciate you reading and commenting and appreciating the oneness, too. I think, in reality, so many professional artists have a very wonky style and go with it. I think for some of us who do this kind of work on the side, there is often an internal critical voice that can be very limiting. I am often trying to understand and work beyond that and just embrace personal line. I am so glad to have seen that you are in your journal in this new year already and that your pages are unfolding. I hope that there is a lot of eye guy in the coming months.
Scattershot? In my mind I am always brainstorming, pre-planning, researching, pondering, and fixating on a multitude of creative possibilities. It is a little overwhelming, and frequently only my illustrated journal makes it out.
Your Sunday posts are part of my sunday morning ritual now.
I kind of love that the illustrated journal is one of the things that rises out of the mix of things that you might be considering at any one time. I think so many of us experience that kind of overwhelm of possibility and interest and yet have to pick and choose in ways that can be difficult or frustrating. I am so glad that you are part of the illustrate your week community and that you also read the Sunday post and are engaged and involved in the comments thread. I really appreciate that. I think scattershot is a great word, too.
"It’s an interesting reminder that even if we draw the same thing multiple times, it may come out different, even very different, each time." I've found this in my writing. Sometimes it feels stale and sometimes I'm surprised by what is new.
What a great post, Amy, and grand encouragement to draw the ones we love. I take candids of my husband reading and baking, chopping wood, and so on, and love the idea of turning them into drawings. I have fav photos of my kids, too. Thank you so much. And I agree with others, the wonky are wonderful.
Thank you so much, Mary. Having all of those photos on hand gives you such a wonderful stockpile for drawing your husband and family! I am sure you would have a lot of fun with it- even on sticky notes.
I wonder if we aren't all "gists" of ourselves at any given moment. It's all there, of course, but it can't all be visible. Some of it we'd prefer to remain invisible, even. And we're always changing. We're a day older. We're feeling down. We're feeling up. We're hurried. We're calm. I'm so glad you made this happen, and I'm glad YOU'RE glad you made it happen. Have you come across Nishant Jain (https://sneakyart.substack.com/p/262)? There's a similarity to your illustrated journaling and his sneaky art, both so in the moment, focused more on the idea of the scene rather than the details.
Chicken Scratch keeps me challenged and more satisfied than not. I'm not sure that counts, since it's not quite the same as a project that has a clear end in sight, but it's what I've got. :)
My creative approach is....hmmm, that's a good question...determined, hopeful, emergent.
Another bit of wonder, and this is probably going to sound really out there: I wonder what would happen if you drew from memory, possibly even using something else to stand in for the physical presence of the partner you're missing. A tree. A crow. A stuffed animal.
Here's to a new week of seeing things as they are, Amy. ❤️
Thank you, Elizabeth. I'm definitely glad I did it. I had a great time doing it. And, when I did show them to my Mom before she left (feeling that I should get her approval before posting), she seemed happy with them. (That was a bit of a surprise, but I think the simplification changes how we look at them compared to regular portraits, where we are more critical.) So, all good.
(And, yes! I am familiar with Nishant (and his very successful substack). His work is great, of course.)
I think Chicken Scratch is absolutely a project. My work here at Illustrated Life is my largest project in terms of time and energy now -- it doesn't need an end or goal. On the drawing side, the illustrated journal also has no clear end. I am always up front about having switched over to that as my main art project instead of constantly moving between other kinds of art projects. (Yes, I still do other projects, too.) So, I definitely hear you -- and I want to reinforce the value of our writing and of our publications as projects. They absolutely are.
I'm thinking about the words you selected for your approach.... interesting! I find our responses to things like that are often interesting and more introspective than they might seem at first.
I love that you offered the suggestion about using a stand-in. I do really love it. I'm going to sit with that for a while, but know that I took that to heart.
I am not good at commenting. I loved this post. The reminder to draw our people. Photograph our people and ourselves with our people, because we won't always know what we need until after we cannot fulfill that need!
I continue to do my Illustrative Weeks project in my sketchbook. Last year I only penciled them in but have been inking this year as I go...it is a very meaningful project that sustains me through the good and the bad.
Thank you so much for your comment, Carmelita. I really appreciate it. I just caught up with a few of your recent posts about your illustrated journal, and I am so happy to know you are continuing to value the process and dedicate your time and art to it. That it is personally meaningful is always the goal. Thank you for reading.
Thank you for the reminder. The portraits of your mother are wonderful and capture different aspects of her. I love the photographs too, most especially the tree. My creative approach at the moment is a bit too scattered (trying to draw, collage, print, quilt and cook at the same time) but I try to remember that the root of the word “dilettante “ is delight and to stay delighted is my goal right now.
Thank you, Catherine. I love that so many of us have so many interests, but it does sometimes make for a lot of pick and choose! I love the role of “delight” in your approach.
I've also noticed that when I do more than one painting of the same thing, they look different. It's an intriguing idea that the perception/perspective of the moment is channeled through our brains to our hands. I thought that by doing a second painting of something I was "correcting" things I didn't like about the first one, but your post has inspired me to realize that maybe that's not what it's about, really.
This makes me want to intentionally draw the same photo multiple times for science!
Thanks for commenting! That’s an interesting take on it. I don’t know that always when I do something again, it is better or improved. And that becomes interesting in terms of our own inability to actually just repeat the same thing twice in a row. I would say typically if we draw the same coffee cup a dozen times we will, through familiarity, find that the drawings improve and become more closely and accurately representational. But as you say, that might not always be the case.
Thank you for this reminder.
Yours is one of the VERY few Substacks that I actually read every week, although then I have to try not to go down rabbit holes of things and older letters you link to!
Yes, this!
Thank you, Sara!
Thank you so very much! I really appreciate this comment and knowing that you are finding something in this package or bundle of words and art each week that has meaning to you. Thank you.
“Overall, they are exceptionally wonky.” This. This right here is what makes them great, at least to me. I absolutely love the wonk, as I’m sure you know. It’s such a welcoming thing to see artists who are willing to allow that to happen and are willing to put it out into the world, to show that everything doesn’t need to be polished and perfect.
Thank you for that ❤️
Thanks so much, Rebecca. I appreciate you reading and commenting and appreciating the oneness, too. I think, in reality, so many professional artists have a very wonky style and go with it. I think for some of us who do this kind of work on the side, there is often an internal critical voice that can be very limiting. I am often trying to understand and work beyond that and just embrace personal line. I am so glad to have seen that you are in your journal in this new year already and that your pages are unfolding. I hope that there is a lot of eye guy in the coming months.
Scattershot? In my mind I am always brainstorming, pre-planning, researching, pondering, and fixating on a multitude of creative possibilities. It is a little overwhelming, and frequently only my illustrated journal makes it out.
Your Sunday posts are part of my sunday morning ritual now.
I kind of love that the illustrated journal is one of the things that rises out of the mix of things that you might be considering at any one time. I think so many of us experience that kind of overwhelm of possibility and interest and yet have to pick and choose in ways that can be difficult or frustrating. I am so glad that you are part of the illustrate your week community and that you also read the Sunday post and are engaged and involved in the comments thread. I really appreciate that. I think scattershot is a great word, too.
"It’s an interesting reminder that even if we draw the same thing multiple times, it may come out different, even very different, each time." I've found this in my writing. Sometimes it feels stale and sometimes I'm surprised by what is new.
I like flipping this as a lens to think about our writing, too, Sara. That makes a lot of sense!
always a pleasure to read the illustrated life.
Thanks, Kathi! I am so glad you are in this community of readers.
Great perspectives Amy 💚
Thank you, Lauren!
What a great post, Amy, and grand encouragement to draw the ones we love. I take candids of my husband reading and baking, chopping wood, and so on, and love the idea of turning them into drawings. I have fav photos of my kids, too. Thank you so much. And I agree with others, the wonky are wonderful.
Thank you so much, Mary. Having all of those photos on hand gives you such a wonderful stockpile for drawing your husband and family! I am sure you would have a lot of fun with it- even on sticky notes.
Welcome, and yes! Sticky notes is a great idea - thanks, Amy!
I wonder if we aren't all "gists" of ourselves at any given moment. It's all there, of course, but it can't all be visible. Some of it we'd prefer to remain invisible, even. And we're always changing. We're a day older. We're feeling down. We're feeling up. We're hurried. We're calm. I'm so glad you made this happen, and I'm glad YOU'RE glad you made it happen. Have you come across Nishant Jain (https://sneakyart.substack.com/p/262)? There's a similarity to your illustrated journaling and his sneaky art, both so in the moment, focused more on the idea of the scene rather than the details.
Chicken Scratch keeps me challenged and more satisfied than not. I'm not sure that counts, since it's not quite the same as a project that has a clear end in sight, but it's what I've got. :)
My creative approach is....hmmm, that's a good question...determined, hopeful, emergent.
Another bit of wonder, and this is probably going to sound really out there: I wonder what would happen if you drew from memory, possibly even using something else to stand in for the physical presence of the partner you're missing. A tree. A crow. A stuffed animal.
Here's to a new week of seeing things as they are, Amy. ❤️
Thank you, Elizabeth. I'm definitely glad I did it. I had a great time doing it. And, when I did show them to my Mom before she left (feeling that I should get her approval before posting), she seemed happy with them. (That was a bit of a surprise, but I think the simplification changes how we look at them compared to regular portraits, where we are more critical.) So, all good.
(And, yes! I am familiar with Nishant (and his very successful substack). His work is great, of course.)
I think Chicken Scratch is absolutely a project. My work here at Illustrated Life is my largest project in terms of time and energy now -- it doesn't need an end or goal. On the drawing side, the illustrated journal also has no clear end. I am always up front about having switched over to that as my main art project instead of constantly moving between other kinds of art projects. (Yes, I still do other projects, too.) So, I definitely hear you -- and I want to reinforce the value of our writing and of our publications as projects. They absolutely are.
I'm thinking about the words you selected for your approach.... interesting! I find our responses to things like that are often interesting and more introspective than they might seem at first.
I love that you offered the suggestion about using a stand-in. I do really love it. I'm going to sit with that for a while, but know that I took that to heart.
I am not good at commenting. I loved this post. The reminder to draw our people. Photograph our people and ourselves with our people, because we won't always know what we need until after we cannot fulfill that need!
I continue to do my Illustrative Weeks project in my sketchbook. Last year I only penciled them in but have been inking this year as I go...it is a very meaningful project that sustains me through the good and the bad.
Thank you so much for your comment, Carmelita. I really appreciate it. I just caught up with a few of your recent posts about your illustrated journal, and I am so happy to know you are continuing to value the process and dedicate your time and art to it. That it is personally meaningful is always the goal. Thank you for reading.
I love these drawings of your mom and hearing about the experience of drawing her. This is a beautiful and inspiring nudge. Thank you for sharing it.
Thanks so much, Erin. I bet you have wonderful drawings of your kids and family.
Thank you for the reminder. The portraits of your mother are wonderful and capture different aspects of her. I love the photographs too, most especially the tree. My creative approach at the moment is a bit too scattered (trying to draw, collage, print, quilt and cook at the same time) but I try to remember that the root of the word “dilettante “ is delight and to stay delighted is my goal right now.
Thank you, Catherine. I love that so many of us have so many interests, but it does sometimes make for a lot of pick and choose! I love the role of “delight” in your approach.