It has been such an exercise in resilience, finding ways to fill the time during a global pandemic, but art has given me something special…
I took inspiration this summer from other artists on Instagram. I love to watch the videos of other artists, usually illustrators, creating little pieces, and I belatedly wished I had taken part in the 100 days of solitude ‘a drawing every day’ type collaborations, or that I felt confident enough to submit to the Maternal Art magazine.. however, what really stood out, was the beloved usage of sketchbooks.
A sketchbook to me, historically, has been a sort of tote bag for images: see something, sketch it and chuck it in the bag. It means that ideas are rapidly stored, but unfortunately I rarely return to them to develop these ideas into something more wondrous. However, the instagram artists I saw were filling their tiny books with such glorious collections, I began to see the sketchbook itself as a piece of art. The pieces within might not be anything more than a compilation of visual journal entries, in terms of quality (though some are exquisitely rendered), but as a whole, the book is priceless.
I bought a better sized cheap sketchbook, and during my snatched hour walk, on a good day, I seized an hour or two more, in remote places (we are a shielding family, after all) and really just worked on observational drawings, using only a pen, and then when home, coloring if I felt it was incomplete otherwise.
The results speak for themselves, and I am in love with my sketchbook.