I draw people in everyday life, people on trains, people in coffee shops, people waiting in line. I carry a sketchbook with me everywhere. Over time, I’ve used all kinds: from Moleskines to dollar store journals. Some are beautiful to hold in the hand, while others look plain on the outside but have smooth paper within that take the pen with grace and ease.
A sketchbook practice turns a bland everyday commute into an creative opportunity for mindfulness, taking in the scene, with a focused attention.
Long subway rides give me a chance to capture a moment in time, with an awareness of people around me and their stories, by observing and sketching.
They continuously change positions and often leave at a crucial juncture in the drawing which adds to the challenges of capturing their attitude and character.
The experience of sketching what is in front of me, in a few strokes, is immediate and unpredictable. I have to capture a likeness or a posture in the space of time between one or two stops. A drawing may need to be abandoned at any minute. I am subject to the whims of the commuters and have to cultivate a mindset of letting go. A subject turns away, gets and leaves and I end up with fragments. Sometimes, I get lucky and the fragments are better than the completed drawings. They suggest more in their incomplete state. These variables of on-the-spot drawing refresh my drawing practice.
There’s always a new cast of characters to evoke on the page. They sit upright and alert, nod off or hunker over their cell phones scrolling endlessly. Some fidget incessantly. Some days the row of characters sitting across from me seems to be hand-picked for an indie film.
On-the-spot drawing requires cunning to avoid detection. I have my ways of observing and offhandedly drawing without a lot of activity so that it might seem to others that I’m doodling on the page. I look for those who seem to be in their own world and maintain a relatively stationary pose.
Whether I like it or not, I am a part of the scene. The person beside often takes an interest in the drawing as it unfolds. I can either tune it out or incorporate their attention into my drawing practice.
Often, I’ll use a semi-blind contour approach to on-the-spot drawing. Meaning, I only occasionally glance at the page, while my hand guides the pen over the page as it follows the path of my eye. I scan my eye over the contours of creases in clothing or the profile of a face. To anyone on the train, it only appears that I’m looking around the car vacantly, like many others. Not drawing. The ride can be bumpy and shaky. Sometimes I guide the pen and sometimes it guides me. It’s not always about the image that appears on the page. It can be merely a way to get into a drawing rhythm, a flow state.
Robert Henri
Robert Henri the American artist and teacher urged students to become sketch hunters:” the sketch hunter has delightful days of drifting about among people, in and out of the city, going anywhere, everywhere, stopping as long as he like. He is looking for what he loves, he tries to capture it. Those who are not hunters do not see these things. The hunter is learning to see and to understand — to enjoy.”
