This is a repost from Art Out the Dark, my original newsletter. Elemental was an art gathering I held during Lent of 2021. Even if you don’t observe Lent, having an intentional period of slowing down and reflecting on elemental questions (hence the series title) is great for anyone and I designed these questions for all walks of life. Looking back at these prompts, they were designed to create a safe, open space to inquire of our heart what we need in times of darkness, and how to create art that gives us hope. If you find yourself in a new season of darkness, may these exercises bring a little bit of light to you.
If you’d like to read the other posts in this series, you can read them all here.
Week 1: focusing on sight
This is a season of disorientation, of wilderness, where the landscape may seem to not be changing at all. What happens when you can’t see the path you’re on? What are you aware of as you try to navigate this season? What parts of your story are coming up for you as you draw?
A few things to consider as you get started…
1. Hold this as a judgement-free zone. You are showing up to explore and play, not make the most beautiful art ever. In fact, give yourself permission to make messy, raw art.
2. I offer timeframes for these, which are 100% suggestions. Adjust as you need it.
3. These are starting points. If you find your curiosity being drawn somewhere else, follow it.
Warmup (1 minute)
First, a warmup. Set a timer and scribble as much as you can over 1 minute. Just let your mark-making tool move, try to fill up on your page as much as you can. This is to get your art body moving and releasing the judgement of making something perfect. It’s your transition from production-mode to play-mode.
How’s that feel? Take a moment to see where you’re at. Maybe a little silly? Relaxed? Tickled? Most people feel a little relief at getting past the blank page. However you feel right now is right.
Single Line Blind Contour (5 min)
1. Set up your subject. Take a few minutes to find an angle that you feel is your favorite view. I chose my husband, Cole. Get comfortable in your seat. If you’re feeling nervous, set a timer for 5 minutes—this will help give you a little structure to the openness of this exercise.
2. Take your mark-making tool and without lifting your pen or looking at your paper, begin to draw your subject as slowly as you can. Take your time to really look and notice. Focus on paying attention to your subject—the drawing is secondary.
When your time is done, take a deep breath. How did it feel? What did you notice about your subject? Anything new? How did you feel about yourself and what you made? It’s interesting to me to see what aspects pop out at the end. Even if it’s not a perfect representation of your subject, you can see glimpses of this thing you love.
Single Line (15 min)
1. Return to your favorite view of your subject. Get comfortable in your seat. If you’re feeling nervous, set a timer for 15 minutes. You can adjust the time as you’d like.
2. Take your mark-making tool and without lifting your pen begin to draw your subject using a single line. Move around the page, overlap lines, make it messy. Take your time to really look and notice.
When you’re done, check in with yourself again. What did you notice? Where did your mind go? Did it feel different than the blind drawing? Did you feel more or less confident? What did you become aware of, such as sounds around you, shapes of your subject, how your body responded to certain movements?
Bonus: Cut it up!
I learned this very helpful technique from Sketching Play Lab and will recommend this at the end of every play session. At the end, there can be a real temptation to cast heavy judgement on yourself and your drawing skills. One way to embrace your process is cut your sketches up! Look over what you’ve done today. What parts speak to you, spark joy or curiosity? If it’s the whole piece, cut it out, if it’s a tiny section of a piece, cut that. Glue them together in a collage on another piece of paper or in a sketchbook. Recycle the rest or save it for collaging later.
A personal example is that the sketchbook I made was originally some Easter collages that just weren't coming together. As you can see in the picture above, it’s sparking some new texture joy for me. When in doubt, cut it out!
Here’s two other abstract artists that delight in tearing up their artwork:
Karen Stamper — She’s also got some great classes on making sketchbooks by the way!)
Louise Fletcher — She provides some great encouragement and honesty in her ink and collage demo here.