Over the last three months, I’ve been drawing. And that’s it. A long time ago that would have bothered me – but Sam, you must keep painting, because drawings can never be enough. But they are enough.
I feel stripped down, raw, and very aware of my past. I’m thinking about April, when trout season opens up and I’m walking down to the creek at 5 a.m. with my dad. We’re on our way to our spot. We find it and get into our positions, waiting for the sunrise at 7:00 a.m. to cast our first lines. We spend most of the day fishing for rainbow trout and the coveted, creamy white palomino. Lately, I’ve been escaping my present to go back 20 years to my past. I drift off in the middle of my 9 - 5 workday, finding myself at 8 or 9 years old, dancing through the grass, down to the woods and back to the creek. I’m free of the burdens of adult life. I always return from these daydreams feeling nostalgic, wanting to hold on to what I just felt for an eternity. So, I started making my nostalgic daydreams into graphite drawings.
My finished drawing, Up on the Mountain, 2024.
Getting a lot of inspiration from vintage field guides.
Drawing with my best fur-friend Pickle.
The drawings are small, 8” x 6”, all vertical and drawn with graphite pencils on very sturdy Arches watercolor paper. (Sidebar: I love drawing on hot press Arches watercolor paper! I used it because I didn’t have any drawing paper at the time, and found it to be better suited to graphite and erasing than regular drawing paper). Each drawing expands on my growing iconography, of flowers, bees, butterflies, moons, fish and so on.
The drawings are low stakes. I’ve made 23 so far, with a goal of 32+ by early June (I have a show coming up!!!). I’ve not thrown any away, there were a few that I wanted to, but kept at them. I wanted them to just be, they didn’t need to be labeled with ‘good’ or ‘bad’. So I let them exist, growing a garden of drawings across my studio wall. Each new drawing acts as a puzzle piece, attaching onto the next artwork, making the body of work become whole.
My postcard-sized drawings are as good as my larger plant-based ink and watercolor/collage paintings. Together they fill out my studio practice. Stronger together. I’ve felt for some time that something was missing from my practice. For a few months, I thought it was ceramics, maybe one day, but not for now. Drawing in graphite feels right to me – the way you feel about a lifelong friend or a romantic partner. I can play more with image-making and focus on the little details. I love where the pieces are going, and I’m excited to build a more immersive studio practice. Below are a few images from my studio.
