Started drawing a couple years ago. Had always wanted to but never thought I could. I used to watch with envy as others put pen to page and re-created what they saw in front of them.
Truth was: I couldn’t draw because I never did. Wasn’t till I was willing to do it all wrong, to make mistakes and embarrass myself, that I was able to see how easily those mistakes can be corrected.
Of course, I’m no master artist. I’m an amateur at best, one who does it for the love of doing it. And what do I love most? When I draw, my mind goes mute; words are abandoned, which prohibits self-criticism.
I just look at a thing and pay close attention, noticing its lines and shapes and shadows. There’s no judgment involved, just a little love as I bring the image to life on a lined piece of paper.