Why I Draw

There’s something surreal about taking an image and making it reappear from the end of a pencil.

One tiny scratch, then another, and another. Line after line makes a face appear, a mountain rise off the paper, a bird come to life.

The soothing pencil sounds, and the images taking shape are terribly addictive. For a while, the world disappears. My mind is perfectly clear and open, available to think about everything – or nothing at all.

Time slows down. I feel my breath going in and out, my pulse slowing as I find my rhythm. (If you don’t like yoga – give this a try.)

Then again, I’ve experienced ‘artist’s high’, the mad excitement as I near the end of a drawing, the absolute delight when I place the final stroke and step away to see.

That’s why I draw. Art is many things – soothing, exciting, scintillating, otherworldly. You can escape. Or not. Many times, I’ve had the most wonderful conversations with my family or friends as I sat at the table drawing.

Often, when my children were young, they’d wander around chattering at me as I worked (work is the wrong word. Actually it's the best way to play). I chose drawing over painting then, because it was easy to lay it aside and take care of my children when they needed me. And then, just as easily, I could go right back to it.

But many times, they’d sit down beside me and draw, too.

Now that’s every artist’s dream! As I’ve mentioned before, my father is a professional artist. I spent many hours drawing in tandem with him as he painted - and chewing his ear off with hours of conversation. I felt very close to him, even through my teenage years.

Even now, every once in a while, I get to experience the same with my teenagers and I love it!

Is there something you did with your father or mother that you now enjoy doing with your children? (It’s the best, isn’t it?)