My maternal grandmother could draw very well. My maternal grandfather was a good woodworker. Most of my family has some creative talent, in fact. For a while, I felt like I was an exception, as though I was the sole non-creative person in my family.
But now that I look at it... I build worlds. I also do a fair amount of work with my hands, such as the installation of the front wing turn signals on my car which should have been there from the day it was built (US lighting regulations are a long way behind Europe when it comes to cars), or the add-on tabletop I made with felt covering for gaming. I knit.
And in the past week, I've finally made a breakthrough in sketching. I've wanted to draw for many years, but always found it frustrating. The best output I came up with was the doodles I made while on the phone, with most of my brain otherwise occupied. I finally realised that, and stopped thinking about drawing while drawing. Simply letting the sketch flow has led to me producing works I'm happy to sign and date.
I'm a perfectionist. I readily admit that, and in some areas of my life it's a benefit, but I've finally learned to accept "good enough", and it has finally become good enough. Next time I go anywhere scenic, I'm going to take with me a board, some paper, and some of the 2B pencils the LA managed to find for my birthday. She knows I prefer a slightly softer pencil for writing, but I usually go for a B. A 2B is a touch softer than that, and I've found it's very good for the sketches I draw. Currently, those are drawings from memory of Cornish landscapes, but I shall be drawing Californian lanscapes from life soon enough...
