I have bought many beautiful sketch books hoping that I would fill them with beautiful sketches. But they have remained beautiful blank sketchbooks because I am so afraid of defacing them with less than perfect drawings…worse…ugly drawings.
My journey in learning to draw has given me quite a few illuminating moments on human psychology (especially mine). Wanting to be perfect, we sometimes never start. So I bought a really cheap sketchbook recently to try to change that. Just deface the damn paper, I told myself. Fill it with ugly drawings because no one’s going to see it but you. Just let go for goodness sake. Sketchbooks are for your ugly drawings.
Ironically, eversince I started on the journey to learn how to draw – I have also learnt how to see better. And no matter how I see it, everything looks more beautiful. The wrinkles on an old woman’s face. The tender-faced boy with legs of uneven lengths. The imperfect looking apple. The wilting flower. And many more. Wabi-sabi.
Because when we really see, we bring into existence the subject. Things are only as beautiful or as ugly as ourselves.
And for that, I am mostly glad.