I don’t sketch much. Every once in a while if I’m trying to work out an idea straight from my imagination, I’ll crack open my sketchbook and scribble out my thoughts. More often than not, I’m the kind of artist who heads straight to the drawing board, set out to do a complete piece, with nothing more than a vision in mind and a few reference images.
One of the things that fascinates me about the work of other artists is the stuff they do in their sketchbooks. I often look at the sketch journals, preliminary works to final pieces and doodles of artists and feel amazed not just at the work but also their consistency in the practice of sketching. I’ve always wanted that kind of dedication but honestly, sketching isn’t something I’ve often enjoyed doing. I have a shelf full of half used sketchbooks full of random doodles of mediocre attempts at being creative and imaginative but nothing really worth looking at ever turns out. Trust me, when I say doodles, I really mean squiggly lines, shaded spheres and odd half finished shapes. Something happens to my brain when I open a sketchbook. I just go blank and with pencil in hand, resort to some rudimentary form of primitive artistry with a monkey grip. Well…that’s how it feels. Sadly, cave paintings are better than the stuff I scribble in my sketchbooks. So despite admiring the sketch work of others and desiring to at least have a halfway decent sketch practice, I never found much enjoyment in it. I had resigned to the fact that maybe I was just one of those artists who is more keen on heading straight to the final piece rather than spending time and energy on preliminary work or just sketching for skill and fun. I accepted that about myself and was content with just the line art I would do for my pieces. That was as preliminary as I could get and I left it at that.
By random chance something happened to me a few days ago. Now as a pen and ink artist you would think that something like this would have already happened but it hasn’t, until now. What had happened was something rather simple and small but greatly significant. I just randomly picked up a ballpoint pen and started sketching with it. That was it. I know, whoopdie-doo. 😒 What’s the big deal about that? The deal is it felt natural in my hand for sketching. You see, in my mind there are two types of pens; one for writing and one for drawing. I never write with my drawing pens and I never draw with my writing pens. You should see the conniption fit I have when my husband uses one of my drawing pens to write something. I’ve gone so far as to tell him he’ll disturb the creativity energy of my pens if he uses them to write on stuff. He hasn’t touched my pens since. I guess it helps that he’s a little superstitious like that.😋
Anyhoo, it never occured to me to try sketching with any of my writing pens, which are mostly ballpoints. Because I write a lot, a pen naturally feels comfortable in my hand. A pencil, I only use when I do my line drawings and that’s it. Everytime I would pick one up in the past with the intention to sketch, I always felt stiff, unable to loosen up and move freely with it. In my mind my pencil had become a specific, precise tool strictly for my base line drawings, not for the free flowing nature of sketching. But the ballpoint felt open with possibilities. So for the past two days I’ve been on a sketching kick and here’s some of the sketches I’ve done. They’re not the best but that’s fine, I’m more excited that sketching actually feels enjoyable to me. I now know to reach for a ballpoint pen instead of a pencil for sketching. Sometimes, a simple change in tools can help to expand your creativity and enthusiasm. 😊