The time it takes is the right time

Patience

For as long as I can remember, I have wanted to draw and create. And sometimes I had the patience for it, and sometimes I didn’t.

Often, I would have a picture in my mind of what I wanted to create, and I so vividly and so achingly wanted to bring it to life, that I would rush to the end, desperate to create something beautiful, only to be disappointed by the result. I felt like the time it took mattered. Because time is limited, and we are told to ‘spend it wisely’, to be efficient and effective, to make every second of this life count.

A different perspective

Years ago, I discovered a doorway in my mind that allowed me to release my creativity from the constraints of time. And it’s a lesson I return to each time I find myself attempting to force my creativity, or rush it to the finishing line.

I found it in a book.

It was 2008 and I was looking for tips and techniques on drawing realistic fur. There was no plethora of how-to videos to turn to, YouTube was still in its infancy, Facebook was for sharing updates and holiday snaps with friends, and Instagram, Reels, and Tiktok did not exist.

But a baby Google, just a few years old, helped me to find what I was looking for, in the stunning work of Mike Sibley, and his book, Drawing from Line to Life.

And within that book was the key that has unlocked all the creativity that has since flowed from my pencil.

Patience. The final, and arguably, most important, tool…. Never let time become a factor in your drawing. It will take as long as it takes. If given the time it demands the result will be well worth the effort - Mike Sibley, Drawing from Line to Life

I still fall into the time trap on occasion, trying to force my creativity into a schedule, worrying over how long a piece is taking and whether its ‘worth’ the time I’m putting into it. But when I do, the result, inevitably, is a lesser version of what it could have been, had I given it the right time.

So I let go of time as a measure. I rebel against it’s constraints and I deny it the opportunity to stifle my creativity. I create until its finished.

And sometimes, a drawing can be born in a moment that I barely remember, and take years to finally be.

544 days

Day 1. 28th October 2019.

It is a cold and dreary day. We drive along the coast road looking for the signs to Weymouth Sealife Centre. We park in the bleak car park and make our way to the entrance.

We expect it to be quiet on this overcast and damp October day, but it appears that many other people have chosen today to visit, and the computer system is down, so the queue to get in is interminable. Thomas is fractious and complains the entire time.

We explore the ‘Ascarium’ and undertake spooksplashtic magical challenges to help Serafina the Sea Witch look after her ocean home and fellow sea creatures.

I am fascinated by the nautilus and the jellyfish, I do my best to breath only through my mouth as we visit the penguins, and I take some mediocre photographs through the thick glass in the dim light.

Day 340. 2nd August 2020.

The conservatory roof is finished and I have an office studio to work from and draw in. I am looking for inspiration for a new drawing and I scroll through my camera roll to see what I can find.

And here is Gamora. Barely remembered from our visit to the Sealife centre last year. I sketch in her outline and begin the formidable task of capturing her with nothing but graphite and paper and concentration. Her eye and syphon, a small portion of her textured skin. Maybe 2 to 3 hours.

Over the next two days, she materialises further, part of an arm, and some suckers take shape. Another 6 to 8 hours. I plan to work on her a little every day throughout August.

But it turns out that its not the right time for us. Capturing the texture of her skin, the depth of the shadows and the shading feel beyond me right now. I’m not sure how to move forward.

At some point after 5th August 2020, she is put aside. I work on other pieces. Perhaps I will return to her.

Day 483. 2nd April 2021.

I’m full of excitement and enthusiasm for graphite pencil drawings again. Maybe now it’s time.

I retrieve her from her resting place and 240 days after the last pencil stroke, I pick up with the next. An arm takes shape. The texture of her skin remains a challenge and deciphering her suckers, one from another amidst the light and shadow of my mediocre photograph tests me. I lose myself, outside of time for a while as she emerges from my pencil.

I lose track of the hours. We spend time together when I can.

Each time I emerge as if from a dream, like I’ve been underwater with her, touching her skin, feeling her suckers around my hands and my arm. In my mind, she explores the feel of my pencil and my fingers, curiously interested, as I in turn, explore the feel of her skin and the muscles hidden beneath, and the sensation of her breath as she sucks water into her mantle over her gills and expels it from her syphon.

More time passes. But I don’t put her away this time. I return when I can, adding texture and shadow, capturing light and dark.

Day 544. 24th April 2021.

Final hours. Finishing touches. And she is done.

There is no tangible measure that says that I’ve spent too much time on a picture. Or too little. It takes the time it takes for it to be right. And when I have finished, I can feel it. It’s nebulous and impossible to predict or pin down. Whether it took 30 hours, or 30 minutes.

I let go of the worry, I free myself from being a victim of the clock. I feel a palpable release, a sense of exhilaration. A freedom to draw when I can, if I choose to, and what I choose. And also free to NOT. To put a piece down, put it away.

I have found that to do otherwise scares away my creativity, constraints my imagination. And fetters my soul.

How about you?

P.S. You can find Gamora as a delightfully devilish jigsaw, on a tote bag, t-shirt or a sweater or as an A3 print from The Marine Conservation Society. All profits go towards their work, making the ocean a healthier place for all marine life.

I also have a small stock of greetings cards in my online shop.

And I have added her as an art printable for paid subscribers in my Mini Illustration Market.

P.P.S I pour hours and hours into writing and creating here because I love it. I’ll do it regardless, but when you subscribe and like and share my posts, when you upgrade and use my drawings in your home and life and online spaces, you’re helping me to go further, immerse myself even more deeply, draw and write even more to share with you.

Thank you for being here, thank you for reading.