Practice, Practice, Practice.

Two small drawings, each about four inches tall. Pencil on paper for the one on the left and direct pen for the one on the right. I drew them both on the same piece of paper but moved them together in photoshop and colored them.

I found a small trove of blank or near-blank journals in my closet. I've mentioned before my inability to keep a regular sketchbook habit that lasts more than five pages; and when I get the notion to try again, I go back to whichever sketchbook is on the top of the pile and find that it is at least two years old. One can't draw right next to drawings that are two years old –– it's a distasteful mingling of disparate histories! So, I buy a new one.

This has been a repetitive behavior and, since I've survived for several decades without an improvement in discipline, I have plenty of slightly-used books. There were times where I bought two, optimistically anticipating the energy and will-power to fill up two sketchbooks! Those are completely blank.

I placed an unblemished 7" x 10" moleskine sketchbook in my bag a week ago and have managed to avoid making a mark in it yet. This is due partly to lack of time for sketching, but mostly due to fear. It has been so long since I have drawn on paper, I fear my drawings will be feeble or ghastly.

These are practice sketches, examples created to prove to the cowardly heart that it won't be as painful as believed. And it has worked. They are not all that terrible. Come, right hand, grip that pen, open that sketchbook… attack!

Left side, drawn while watching one of the speakers on the latest Apple keynote videos.
Right side, invented.

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