Those lines you just left on paper – are those really just doodles?
Could it be more than just meandering lines that you've mindlessly put together? Mindless not in the way it was created, but mindless in the way how easily our minds shifts from one thought to the next, perplexing, changing, evolving and never the same. Mindless in weight, in troubles and in spirit? A line that solidifies our constant state of flux, by being there – a constant. A reminder. A mark left in time that captures the essence of what makes drawing such a personal affair.
What happens beyond the meandering? At what point does a drawing become art? Or is every doodle a work of art in itself? I'd like to think it’s more the latter, but at the same time, sometimes not all doodles are made equal – sometimes it's nothing more than it is. And yet some are more than they truly show. An image, a still, captured in time. A thought. A fleeting emotion. Raw. Keep reading...
Above by Herikita
Above by Kate McCann
Does creation start with intent and careful planning? Or is it a byproduct of being in the flow, not knowing, uncertain, and exploratory in nature? There is no right or wrong answer. Doodles might become drawings. Drawings might become paintings. Everything or nothing could be art. It all starts with the humble line – and more importantly, where it leads us.
How can you infuse your work with a sense of purpose? Or perhaps it’s best the other way around. What if a sense of purpose ignites a passion for your work instead? We know how art that’s meaningful to us are more relatable to others. A shared story or experience can often alter our sense of reality; defining them and yet allowing yourself to distance yourself from it. You’ll find kindred spirits in others – perhaps even a comrade along your journey.
Creating art that speaks, on some levels, rely on the fact that you have something to say. Maybe you’re certain in your thoughts. Or maybe you doubt you have any. One thing is for sure – we all have stories inside us that’s waiting to be told. Whether it’s dark and scary; or light and fun. Or maybe it’s neither because you’re not sure what it is. We underestimate what we’re capable of because we think it’s too normal, or we’re too boring.
Above by Lauren Hom
Life isn't a quick succession of crazy antics and never-ending adventure everywhere we turn. Life in all its glory is made up of mundane moments, rather than the dizzying highs and overwhelming lows. There’s blanks. So many of them. Long leisurely spells where nothing happens, and yet everything does. Moments where your heart skips a beat, and times when you thought it would stop for good. Experiences where you thought were one-of-a-kind, and things you say to yourself, hoping others don’t hear. Someone else has been there before. And done that too. Sometimes they forget that it ever happened. Our memories lie dormant; waiting. Waiting for something, someone to stir them up again.
Help them recreate that moment by re-telling yours. Or remind them that someone else knows what they feel deep down inside. Paint them a picture of a world you believe in. Draw for a solidarity you have yet to know exists. Create to your hearts content, and peel away layers that you thought weren’t there (they most certainly are). Draw a line, two, or three. Don’t stop till you’ve told your story, in the best way you know how. Share them with those who will listen, see and dream; and don’t stop till you’ve found the ones who lie there in the dark. Waiting. Just waiting for you to stir them awake once again.
Art is in living. And through living with purpose (one that's yours to dictate) can we create art that truly connects.
Perhaps your doodles aren't as random as you think. Maybe they have a story behind them. Maybe it’s something you didn’t realise before, but it’s something that I hope you’d like to bring out in your work. If you’re in search of answers on how you can create art that connects, do have a look at Work/Art/Play – it’s an online class that’s now open for registration until 7th August 2015.