The Call of the Wild

Opua, New Zealand 

Filling the page

I am far away from the land I have called home for most of my life. Throughout our sea voyage, I wrote. I analyzed and observed from my perch as a sailor and traveler and I have also taken innumerable photos. The last 32 months have crammed themselves into my psyche. I’m bursting at the seams.

And now, I’m drawing.. Faces. I’m obsessed with faces: my partner’s, strangers’ faces, the faces of friends and ex-lovers. I want to draw, draw, draw. It's as if the floodgates have opened.

Drawing like any form of art requires practice. It requires doing over and over. That's the only way to improve, grow and play with ideas. While we sailed our boat across the Pacific I was too busy absorbing my surroundings and rarely picked up a sketchbook. At first I chastised myself, but after a conversation with a fellow artist, I realized that it, whatever “it” is, would come back to me. I needed space to create. And I am carving that space for myself now.

Profile

As I pick up my pencil today, I find my fingers are a little stiff, my drawings lack a certain fluidity. But I’m remembering, and I’m embracing the imperfections as part of the process.

Did I tell you I'm drawing again?



Click on images to enlarge them.

Doing not judging, imperfections welcome

Working on quick choices and trusting the line