Musicians practice scales, pitchers throw pitches, writers keep notebooks, and drawers carry and use sketchbooks. The habit of sketching sharpens eye/hand coordination, forces one to focus, and trains our minds to use visual shorthand. Sketchbooks also record history. Some of Vicki and my earliest dates involved bringing sketchbooks to galleries in Seattle. I look at those old drawings now and they evoke precious memories.
Some of my funnest discoveries on this museum tour is seeing artist sketch books. Curators know the importance of preliminary sketches and they display them for viewers' pleasure.
When I sketch I'm transported. I look at negative space, squint to see lights and shadows, and try to channel emotion through my fingers. The pressure to make a perfect drawing is absent; my inner critic is silenced by the knowledge these are loose, fun, and quick exercises. Sketching also fuels my imagination. I am copying another's original, trying to imagine what sort of mind came up with this face, shape, or design.
Museums are very fussy about sketchers. There's a 12 inch rule. If you get within 12 inches of a rare painting either an alarm will go off or one of the "guards" will scold you. There is no flash photography, and your tools are strictly limited to pencil. I was astonished (and envious) to see that some art students had been given permission in one museum to paint on sight.
I leave for Denver tomorrow, then Sacramento, Portland, and Bellingham. Not sure what museums I'll get to see next but regardless, I hope to doodle as I go (as in this final pix of my view from a bagel place in Chicago this AM).
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