Draw like a child.
The best way to reboot your brain.
As an illustrator, I am constantly searching for a certain whimsy and simplicity in my work. There are many artists that I admire that achieve these things, but the ones I’m most envious of are not professionals, they are children.
My own children have had different relationships with making art over the years, and I fear that my job as an illustrator and their propensity for perfectionism has somewhat soured them on drawing at certain times…Comparison really is the thief of joy.
Luckily, for the most part, despite their struggles, they love drawing. Which, as you might imagine, makes me happy and also envious because they just whip out the most whimsical and wonderfully simple drawings without even trying. Like these, my youngest made in quick succession this morning before heading off to school.
How amazing are these creatures? They have such personality, such whimsy, such wonkiness. I love them all. Looking at them provokes such questions. Why is the unicorn’s neck so long? Why are the fish’s fins so small? Why does the bee’s stinger have a ball on the end? I’m sure if I asked him, he would say “because it’s cute” or, more likely “I don’t know!” In a voice that is incredulous that I am even asking such a stupid question.
But I can’t help but look at these little characters and try to dissect them. Why do I think they are so good? When I’m looking for inspiration, I’ll sometimes redraw them, making notes to myself about WHAT I find so good about each one.
My drawings are cute, but there is something lost in translation. The closest I can get to drawing like a child involves changing mediums, hands, or the way I grip my materials.
These get a little closer to the wonkiness and joy in my kid’s drawings – and it’s fun. Drawing with my left hand, gripping my marker in a weird way, using big chunky materials that are impossible to control perfectly, these are not things I do on a daily basis. Changing things up like this makes me feel like a beginner – my hand feel shaky, my line doesn’t always go where I want it to go and what comes out feels fresher somehow.
I feel very lucky to have many children’s drawings to look at, both my own kids and the ones that draw with me at school visits. When I’m feeling frustrated with my work and annoyed with feelings of perfectionism or when I’ve lost my drawing joy (which sometimes comes when you make something you love into your job) this is when I steal from my children.
I look at their pictures and try to recreate them – the opposite of what they are doing when they ask me to draw something for them. We’re both learning. Although mine is more of an unlearning. A trying to feel the line instead of think of the line. Of just drawing and not caring about the outcome. It freeing.
When I’ve lost my drawing joy, I grab some crayons and markers, switch hands, and try to find that freedom that made me love doing this in the first place. A ream of cheap paper, some cheap materials and just moving my hand on the page – with no care about the outcome. It’s the best way to reboot my brain.
If you’ve lost your drawing joy, or if you just need a little pick me up, I highly recommend it.
See you next week,
