I made a drawing of a flower today
I made a drawing of a flower today. We all did, sitting down, scattered between bushes and rocks on Europe’s most western point, sea stretching out below us. We were on a Sketchbook Walk.
It was given as a very simple task…
Just look at the flower and don’t make up any ideas about it. Don’t know anything about it. Don’t think about it. Just look at it and know that as your pencil finds its way along the lines you see, the drawing will start making sense. You might get lost, finding your drawing doesn’t match with the way the leaves grow. Just continue, keep insisting on the searching and following of the eye along the flower. The pencil roams slowly, figuring out as it goes. An honest drawing, with no presupposing of knowing it beforehand and with no need to impress anyone.
The brain, addicted to adrenaline, and dull from daily overstimulation, is having a hard time. The eyes skip around the flower, looking for patterns, a system to simplify it by, get it over with.
‘yeah, I get this part, it goes straight, I’ll just skip to the yellow petals, now that’s a challenge”.
“I bet I can use my fancy markmaking and do this texture”…
Do it slower, draw painstakingly slow for a few minutes. Let your eyes move as a small ant would, walking across it. Let your pencil do the same line as your eyes, feel the exact coordination. There is nothing else right now, just this line happening, millimeter by millimeter. Just you and the flower.
Something happens, a shift inside. Like the flower is actually there, before me. No words are going through my mind anymore. It is just an intense following, physically feeling the point of the pencil making my eyes’ path real, pushing against the paper, stronger and weaker as the flower grows from thick stem to delicate petals. There is an intense joy, that I can only describe as related to childhood. It has no purpose and no knowledge attatched to it. It is an appreciation of something filling your sensory horizon, putting you right in the middle of time, where time dissappears.
I look at the drawing and I can’t believe how odd and beautiful it is. I didn’t do this..The flower did.
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- Paying attention - February 19th, 2009

