It’s no use going back to yesterday, because I was a different person then
During lockdown (with a non sleeping one-year old) , my Royal Talens Art Creation sketchbook became my best friend. I documented the monotony of the days, finding myself lost in the magic of gouache and soft pastel which made even the greyest and sleepiest of days seem joyful world. In fact, this creative act, where I didn’t need to use my front brain and could literally sit for hours forgetting about the problems of the world, regenerated me. It gave me energy and recharged me with only a couple of hours sleep. I became obsessed with capturing light and romanticising moments in my daughter’s life. But as the everyday returned to normality, my love for the practice waned. I stopped drawing the places I loved and longed for. And as my daughter grew, so did I, and I returned to my art being about something more than getting through the every day.
But for the last few months, I’ve had a nostalgic tug for the sketchbook practice I used to have. Maybe it’s as a response to these dark times or maybe it’s because I think it they would be lovely to give my daughter when she’s older - better than the thousands of digital images cluttering up the cloud. But whatever it is I’m again longing for escape through the creative act into a hopeful, peaceful creative place. So I picked up an old sketchbook and tried to recreate the magic. But it didn’t work. In fact, I kinda hated it. I hated waiting for the gouache to dry. I hated not being able to work on lots of pieces at once. And I hated not being able to destroy the work with water half way through when it looks to ‘done’. I’d really wanted it to work, but my heart just wasn’t having it. My heart had moved on, and so had I, sadly. And I knew that, my studio wall covered in sketches is a living breathing testament to how I work now. And that’s okay.
As Alice says in Alice in Wonderland: “It’s no use going back to yesterday, because I was a different person then.”
So with Alice’s wisdom echoing through my soul, I knew that if I want to use sketchbooks I would need to find a way that is relevant to me as I am now. A way that allows me to work quicker and more responsively. However, that said, my covid sketchbooks are still a valuable part of my story. The essence of hope in darkness, calm and a certain softness are parts of signature that will always be with me. Thinking back to school, those traces of creative DNA were there - despite the teachers’ best efforts. I would shade sfumato instead of crosshatching (which obviously is ‘the right way to draw’) and find peace and energy in the intuitive creative act (those were the There are traces of ourselves in whatever we do. And that is the beauty of a creative practice. We can respond to the seasons of our lives with a different creative act but, if done from a place of authenticity and heart, there will always be traces of the artist you are. Plus, my daughter has some sketches of her from a time that she’ll never remember, but will be painted with love by her mum. And that is priceless heirloom.
