We had our first drawing class on Saturday morning and four wonderful women trudged out in torrential rain to join me. Two of the women said they’d never drawn before and I could sense the trepidation that often comes when we do something new. It’s that old fear—what if I’m not very good? Worse—what if I’m no good?

We started with free drawing to music—M Ward and Jose Gonzales, fabulous musicians that my friend Kelly turned me onto. We just scribbled and scribbled, ripped paper off our pads, tossed it on the floor, kept scribbling. Everyone got into it—playing with line, long wavy lines, short stabbing lines, dots, squiggles. It’s amazing how absorbing it is to do this, how in the moment we all were.

And it was amazing to see how different all of our drawings were, no two even remotely alike. After we did a few of these we could begin to see that each of us has our own way, style even. It’s not a contrivance, but an energy, a way of expressing ourselves. Our own hand. That’s not what happens when new artists try to draw the same object. There can be more of a similarity to their drawings that wasn’t in evidence here. It’s as if when we constrict we all constrict in a similar way—grow tight and tentative. But when we feel free the range and exuberance in the expression is uniquely wild and interesting.

And the goal is to bring that essence into every drawing we do and into everything we do. So, thanks to Sally, Connie, Maureen and Deb for bringing themselves to this class! They made it so much fun. Onwards!

Manaku of Guler: Asking Her To Leave Her Noisy Anklets And Go

Oh, those noisy anklets! Well, art can be about anything especially when you have Krishna sitting on one side. Who knows the problems those anklets were causing? I suspect this woman was drawing a little bit too much attention to herself. We all know that’s not where it’s at. Well, I guess we all don’t know that and that’s why we need art. It’s not the moral reminder that lifts me up here, but the gorgeous sense of decorum and the sense that our moral failures, which occasionally exceed noisy anklets, can indeed be corrected.
This exhibit’s a feast for the eyes and mind—the rich colors, the incredible detail, the uninhibited eroticism, the sense of story. There are 123 paintings from India at the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston on loan from the permanent collection at the San Diego Museum. I love the sense of design and order in Indian miniatures. The paintings are often depictions of stories from one of many religious traditions in India but they all have the same sense of order. Even when a devlish god is thrown to the lions he meets his end with decorum. Like western art these paintings from the 14th to the 19th century often reflected religious beliefs or depicted scenes from court life. Unlike western art Indian paintings are small but less repressed when it comes to the naked body and luscious scenes of love. There’s a joyous sense of the high life and higher life. And they don’t look that different. A real treat.

Drawing is making marks. Looking at lines, feeling what they convey, we begin to uncover possibilities and truths. We begin to see that we need dark and light, thick and thin, wild and sedate, wobbly and bold. Like yin and yang they’re two parts of a whole. One doesn’t make sense without the other.

With practice lines aren’t just accidents but intentions. In every moment drawing is a reciprocal activity—receiving and giving, giving and receiving. We have to keep our eye on the page and on nothing at all, at the same time.

When we see different ways of making marks we see different ways we can use our own hand. No matter how many different kinds of lines we use it will still be our own hand. Your thick smudgy line is yours, not mine. Mine is mine. We’re all bringing a little something to the party. Not the whole shebang. But in seeing your line I expand mine. So, thank you for sharing.

With each of our different ways of drawing we see a little more of the mystery. The goal is not to incorporate everything so that we might say it all. No can do. You can let yourself off that hook. The goal is just to show up and give what you’ve got.

Artwala Road has been up and running for six weeks now and already readers have come from England, Japan, Spain, Israel, Canada, India, Ireland, Korea, Australia, Sweden, France, Morocco and all across the United States. And not through any great effort on my part. Not yet anyway. I’ve been focussing on overcoming technical ineptitude and on creating content. Friends with sites of their own have kindly pointed this way. Google has referred those who searched for subjects that exist in some form on the site. And in the magical, interconnectedness of the internet, connections are being made. I’m glad you’re here.

Mostly I’m talking about art here, about the process of making it, about what it might do in this moment in time, about things I see and like and that inspire me. I think a lot about art because to me art reflects our consciousness in this moment in time, or it can. Art can lead consciousness.

As dire as things are on the planet right now there are lots of signs of positive change. In art, in people. I’m looking for signs of art on the planet and reporting the good news here. Whatever comes across my path.

One big sign of positive change is this cyber space where connections are made and news travels fast. The underground is now overground. And we’re all part of it. All of you who visit here and everywhere from all over the world. Talk about radical and talk about good. Art on the planet.

Drawing is just a way to put some spirit out into the world. We’re all here to do that in whatever ways call us. It’s not just artists; everyone gets the call. It’s the way we do things that matters. The way we’re lawyers, the way we’re truck drivers, the way we’re gardeners. We’re all putting something out into the world. We can choose what it is by bringing consciousness and good intention to what we do.

So when we draw we might want to think about that. We don’t want to get tight and uptight about getting it all right. We want to get loose and free, even loopy, so we can get past ourselves. We want to play. Nothing great comes from an excess of earnestness; it comes from the freedom of non-thinking. From getting into that space of inspiration.

So, how do we get there? How do we get to shed our concerns about not getting it just right, of not making the mark? What mark? Forget about that and sit down to draw. And to start, rather than drawing what’s in front of you draw something from your head. Something simple like a hat. Draw one, then another, then another. Just play with it and see where it goes. Because play is a very big part of art. Picasso showed us that.

Let’s think about drawing again—about what we can do with it. Everyone’s eager to learn to draw better, to make things look like they’re supposed to look. But how much do we need to bother with that? If we want to look at flowers we can go pick some. I tend to do that. But maybe you’ve been bowled over by the incredible beauty of a rose and that’s what you want to share. That’s great and then you’ll have to practice to get some accuracy into your drawing.

But there are other ways to draw. Maybe there’s something else you want to say. Maybe a simple white line drawing of a flower on a background so dark it implies a universe of space, maybe a drawing like that hints at your feeling that the universe is essentially beautiful. That’s it’s blooming. You’re drawing doesn’t have to be so accurate for that but it needs to feel assured.

Too often, people get hung up on verisimilitude and forget what they’re trying to say. They obsess about getting the drawing perfect and they end up with something so uptight the only thing it says is—uptight.

People say things like—I’m not a very good artist because my flower looks like nothing. But really art is not about that. Isn’t art about what you see? Not just the flower but what you see in it that comes from your experience, your life. To convey that you need to have a sure hand. So scribble a little more. Loosen up. Get to know the hand you’ve been dealt.

Hugs…