Have you ever seen a child have a tantrum in a public place? They scream, fall down on the floor, and pump their arms and thump their feet. Then, when the parent tries to stand them up by grabbing an arm, the kid uses it as a pivot point to spin around on. That’s the way my muse acts when she doesn’t get her way.

I try to avoid it.

The “problem” is that I get lost chasing ideas down rabbit holes a lot, but I just gotta chase those rabbits because they lead me to piles carrots and sacks of gold. No wait, that’s what it feels like to my muse. I love chasing rabbits because they reward me with new ideas and energy.  And listen, I’m like one of Pavlov’s dogs. If I get rewarded for a behavior, then that’s what I’ll do from then on.

Unlike parents of tantrum throwing kids, I know when I’m beat, so rabbit chasing takes priority and  I draw or write after that. This is a hard thing to balance because it unleashes crazy energy. The kind of energy that pulls you along in the direction it wants to go, and not the well behaved kind that you can hop on and ride to where you planned to go. (I changed from the rabbit to a horse metaphor in those last sentences, in case you got lost.)

With all this in mind, I looked at lots of time management systems but none of them are meant for people who run on tantrum throwing muse power, so I invented this non-forced, non-linear, trust-myself-to-do-what-needs-to-be-done system that doesn’t stress me or make my muse hurl herself onto the floor.

For example, this post was written quite a while ago but it didn’t feel done, but today, after I’d chased a few rabbits, my energy went right to it. I reworked the entire thing, and now it’s better, which is another reward. (Make it a chocolate chip next time, Mr. P..) So there you have it. I don’t power my creative side at all, I just hang on for the ride.

After I arrive at my destination, all the rabbits and horses go off to graze, leaving me to do the work, the brats. I’m happy with things this way, though, which is probably what I’m searching for in the first place.

My curvy path.

I’m sure this illustration makes it easier to understand! No? Oh dear, you’ll have to take my word for it then.

I’m guessing the point is that knowing what your process is, and sticking to it even  if your friends glance at each with raised eyebrows when they think you’re not looking, is a huge big deal. So, my pencil friends, bravely walk down that curvy path, and that path, and that path. You’ll get somewhere eventually.

Walking on with ya,
c

Me, walking on. (ps – I gave myself better hair.)

A note to everyone who’s written to me:  Thank you so much for encouraging me to keep posting my drawing lessons, and my life lessons too. I truly love to write these posts, but it’s knowing that you enjoy them that helps me pick up the ball after I’ve dropped it again, and again and again. (Geez, life is hard, and humbling.) Hugs and kisses to you all … and you know who you are.

A note to eyebrow raisers: Just so you know, artists are supernatural sensory-intake machines. They know what you know before you know it, if you know what I mean, and they are never not looking. Don’t worry though, after blabbing all we knew a few times as kids, most of us know how to be discreet now. (Unless we just want to mess with you.)

Pattern

Found Flower Pattern

I found this drawing idea by taking another drawing into a kaleidoscope app. 
I saw flowers in the patterns it generated, and they looked undeniably feminine and very bold.

Outline

I drew a partial line drawing right from the computer screen. It helped me keep the pattern “breaks” in about the right positions so I could accurately add landmarks and that sort of thing.
I’d like this to look like a flower that I found growing somewhere. I don’t know if I’ll be able to do that, but at least this step seems like a good start.

The Questioning Begins
In an attempt to stop the embarrassment of a failure, my ego questions me like a detective interviewing a suspect everytime I start a new drawing. My intent, skill, and concept are scrutinized for evidence of wrong doing. Fortunately, the joy of drawing always bails me out and I proceed even if does look like I’m about to commit failure.

Folding Petals

3D petals

The most wonderful thing about drawing happens when three dimensions start to appear, and shading these petals physically felt like I bent them up and over. Aaaaaah! This is why graphite on paper satisfies my desire to create form like nothing else does. I’ve never found another medium that allows me work with form, light, and space in a more intimate way.

Letting Go
Just as a drawing approaches my vision of it, it develops a spirit of its own and demands to go its own way. It’s very hard to release my vision of the drawing and let it determine it’s own face, because that means transitioning from the known to the unknown … along with a huge possibility of failure. My job is to guide that spirit into it’s fullness so that it can deliver its meaning though, so my ego and I step back and only assist as the fledgling idea launches itself. If the drawing fails, it’s because I couldn’t let go of my version of reality and embrace the new possibility.

I’ll let you know if I made the transition by showing you the next steps of this drawing. If you never see it again, you’ll know I didn’t.

A Feeble Gradation

I’m sure you’ve made scribbled ribbons before. You draw them with the side of the pencil lead and they have a 3D look. While drawing a few of them myself, I realized that these loops and curves bubble over with drawing goodness.

Solid Form In Space!

If you’ve never had the idle time it takes to learn this doodle technique, you poor thing, it’s really simple. Just lay the pencil low on the paper, and put a bit more weight on the lead tip as you draw. That pressure creates automatic shading, but don’t get too excited about the “automatic” thing, because it’s a feeble effect at best. The real fun comes when you make that fuzzy ribbon shape into a solid form in space. And what’s not to love about form in space!

::: And now, here’s a word from my easily distracted mind. :::

My Unified Theory Of Form In Space

If there was only one form floating in space, and the form got lonely and looked deeply into space to find another, the form would see that space encloses it marking the boundary between where space isn’t and form is. Form and Space can’t exist without each other, so neither one of them is ever alone, and form can be happy once again. And space probably feels a lot better about things too.

::: Back To Our Drawing! :::

Have you noticed that when you draw with the side of the pencil in an overhand grip that your elbow swings freely? (Non-Subtle Hint: If it doesn’t. Try again.) Really get into that elbow freedom and see how much more zingy and wild the ribbons look. Now try to tame some of that wildness, because its awesome to be able to draw freely and with some control. It gives your visual language more range.

Practice for a while. Pretend that a real ribbon is flowing out of the pencil tip and you’re a sculptor who can swoop it around wherever you want.

Power-Up

Now select a nice looking ribbon and draw it into the next level of ribbon-hood.

Scribble Light Source

But, two things before you begin:

• Lighting
• Where is it coming from? (It’s to the right side and slightly behind the ribbons I drew. Yours will probably be the same, but you should check.
  Keep the lighting consistent across the entire ribbon.
• Detail
• If this is a real ribbon seen from the side, then one edge must be in front of the other.
  Figuring this out is trickier than it sounds, especially if the ribbon has lots of loop and twists. It’s a visual puzzle and, believe me, you run into visual puzzles all the time when you draw.

Your challenge is to make the ribbon’s gradation firm (solid, not spotty, smooth) and the edges sharp (not fuzzy), because these are the characteristics of a real ribbon. Switch to a normal writing grip to do these things.

Sharp Edges and Cross-Overs

The front edge of the ribbon probably looks about right, so just run a sharp pencil point over it to tidy-up that edge. The back edge is the end of a gradation that has no firm stopping point, so it’ll need more focused attention. A sharp pencil tip will do the trick here too, but keep it very light because that’s the brightest part of the ribbon. If you need to backtrack and lighten it up, tap it with a kneaded eraser.

Now tackle the cross-overs and cast shadows. If you need some help, arrange a light source in about the same position, hold a strip of paper near it, bend and loop it, and take mental notes. You’re shading doesn’t have to be perfect to suggest realism, but a model helps you keep it in the same ballpark, and that helps a lot.

Scribbled Ribbon Goodness

For more challenging form building delight, try to make the ribbon look rolled, folded, twirled, crinkled, or take it wherever your ribbon drawing instincts tell you to go. This is mine.

One thing leads to another.

Scribbled Ribbon Fantasy

Art making is all about following leads or prompts. One shape might need another for balance, a half-wild pencil stroke might remind you of something else, the overall design might cry out for something more, and many times the request will require you to stretch past your comfort zone. Follow these instructions and grow. Don’t follow them and enter stasis.

Here’s a glimpse into the prompts I followed when I drew this strange bird-plant-thing.

I left the original ribbon on the left side so you could see it’s swirling fun-ness.

—>The loops on the right side reminded me of coiled fern leaves, so I added details to suggest something similar. —>The coiled leaves made me think of flowers and buds and such, so I drew a seed pod. —>The seed pod was shaped a little like a bird’s head, so I added a beak and a closed eye. —> Since it’s a plant, or something close to one, I added roots.

Words on curvy lines.

But words in straight lines can’t capture how that felt, so here are words on curvy lines that come closer.