For the love of the draw

Today is my half-birthday, a day I've always noted, for some reason or another, as a very merry unbirthday to me. And yet, today, as I get older by this silly milestone, I feel older. My shoulders hurt from drawing. My hips hurt from standing all day in unsupportive rain boots on an uneven surface at a stormy, outdoor show.

I realize it's been two months since I've posted here.  Those two months have been both empty and full.

I traveled to Maryland to see my family for Easter, bringing my husband and my dog with me. I had spent the last several months drawing nearly non-stop, except for class prep, grading, and work on an invited lecture I had at Middlebury College in Vermont. More on that later.  I was tired as I reached my weird Spring Break that came three weeks into my semester.  I attended my second SCBWI conference in Maryland, and left feeling really inspired. I had learned a lot, had met some great people, had done some good work on the manuscript I am writing with my brother, and had had a tough but good critique with a Caldecott medal winner.  And I stopped drawing.

My visit a week later to Middlebury was wonderful.  I was treated like a serious professional and an intellectual for the first time in four years. It was like balm on a wounded spirit.  No longer was I merely an adjunct. I was an expert in my field again.  The town was beautiful, the waterfall, the mountains and the lake restorative.  And I still did not draw.

I returned to NYC.  I began to teach again. I worked on my shop, I prepped for shows, I shipped orders. And I still did not draw, even in the face of a commission. 

Little doodles were hard won, not from my mind, which felt fertile, but from my hand, which was spent. I deduced that my artist's block, therefore, was located somewhere in my arm. 

Doodle of the Boy and Grandpa, character sketch.

There are many reasons I stopped drawing. I was tired. I was unsure after my critique.  There was some grief, as well, that had to work its way out of my body.  I had to feel confident again.

Through sheer force of will I dissolved that blockage in my arm, and I made myself draw again. Here's my work-in-progress, for a friend.   More on that, soon.  And hopefully...more, much more. A mountain full of more.

Work in progress.