Instead of just reading about it I am going to do it. No real reason not to. I mean I am capable. I just don't for some reason. Ok, WHAT am I blathering about? Drawing! I have approximately 15 drawing books on my book shelf and I just bought a new one: Drawing Lab by Carla Sonheim sort of as a Father's Day gift for my husband, but not really. Mostly as another book to add to my crowded collection.
Not only do I have the books, but I also have a ton of supplies. I even have three spaces in my house that could easily house a small studio space (and I only live in 800 square feet).
But there is something blocking me.
I am a graphic designer by education - hence the 4th of July poster on this post - so I have an eye for that. But drawing, painting, photography, etc were all taken by my family.
Seriously.
They all said I couldn't draw, photograph, or paint very well, so why bother.
Very supportive. (Seriously sarcastic.)
I don't know if I was really that horrible or more they were threatened by the possibility that I might be good. It is just odd that they were so sure I couldn't do any of that at the age of say 12 or 13. Why would you tell a child they weren't good at anything. Anyway, all these years later I have wanted to draw my own version of the world. Not that I was going to be the next Leonardo, Picasso, Miro or even Klee, but I wanted to take my own perspective on how I see things and draw my little heart out.
But I never do.
I have the supplies out. The intention. But I just do the dishes, make the bed, type out this, or pull weeds.
Not this time. Tonight I am doing the first project in that little book - I am drawing 30 cats in bed. Not great cats, not even necessarily one of my cats, but 30 cats.
