37 Days ☺☺☺

What do I want to say about art today? Um, let's see...

As of today, I have been sketching everyday for 37 days. 

That's huge for me. This sketchbook practice has been very much about showing up and letting go of quality and perfectionism. And enjoying what I sketch rather than trying to sketch for outside appreciation. And rebuilding trust in myself and trust in imperfection.

I don't feel like I have many sketches in this stretch of time that I'd particularly like to share for their own sake. They aren't representative of what I'm capable of as an artist, they aren't in the running for any medals against my own best work ever. They are mostly early morning sketches, when I'm barely awake, sipping coffee and before I've yet achieved verbal functionality.

Through most of Covid and up until this last summer, I had been a very moody sketcher, only creating when I felt motivated (and often not even then). I'd go for weeks without going anywhere near pen and paper, and anything I did sketch was subjected to deep self criticism. Depression was a huge factor in my sketch/creative moods. Perfectionism definitely had me in a choke hold.

So, here's an example from 7/29/25. I was drawing my morning coffee cups for a while. And I had just gotten into what has become a favorite thing to sketch: marker scribbles outlined in ink. Dude! I love, I love, I love this. Don't ask me why, I don't know why. Suddenly, I started going to sleep anticipating the next morning like it was Christmas and I couldn't wait to see what I was going to sketch next. I hadn't felt that in a looooooong time.

To (probably) be continued...