Give yourself permission to draw

For a while now, I've been trying to draw more, rediscovering the joy and creative expression that comes with it. I’m learning that I don't have to be technically good to effectively convey meaning in a visual format. That’s why when I saw Alessandro Bonaccorsi's Raw Drawing: Spontaneous and Carefree Drawing on a bookstore shelf, I was so excited. Its title, as well as an intriguing, child-like illustration on the cover (and the similarly messy drawings throughout the book) really spoke to me.

Drawing is an inherent component of communication

It may appear that the demand for visual information presentation has never been greater than in today's society, as younger generations read less and their attention spans decline. However, humans communicated through drawing long before writing was invented. The best examples are Paleolithic drawings and those discovered on the walls of pyramids. We think in images, conjuring up a visual representation of our thoughts, abstract concepts, and memories automatically. Drawing is also a nearly global language that draws on our shared understanding of the world and is less likely to be misinterpreted than translated words.

Conditioning around drawing

There are several misconceptions that keep us from drawing. First and foremost, we believe that drawing requires exceptional talent. I’m sure I wasn’t the only one who thought that since I lack technical expertise, I should leave it to people that know what they are doing. This sentence by the author made me realize how incorrect this belief is:

“Thinking that only the best painters can produce images equates to thinking that only the best calligraphers are allowed to write.”

Second, as adults, we have a hard time justifying doing something as trivial as drawing. Having time to draw appears to be a luxury these days, and we often feel guilty for wasting it on such insignificant activities rather than doing something constructive and beneficial. Third, adopting a beginner's mindset makes us self-conscious; we are concerned about whether or not we are good. And it takes bravery to do things we aren't good at without criticizing ourselves too harshly. Admitting to oneself, "I DON'T KNOW HOW TO DRAW," is a step toward releasing ourselves from that judgment.

Immersing yourself in the process

The key takeaway from the book is that it is not the outcome of our drawing that matters, but rather our participation in the process itself and the enjoyment that comes from doing things that are fun but do not necessarily bring concrete results.

The author introduces the Ten Tenets of Raw Drawing, which should act as a guide for us as we begin our journey into the world of drawing. I found myself returning to them quite frequently. The author even suggests copying and posting them somewhere prominent so that we can refer to them whenever we are doubtful about our abilities.

The Ten Tenets of Raw Drawing

Through the numerous exercises, you can fully immerse yourself in the process. The book includes those in which you are asked to draw merely a dot or simple lines, scribbles, imaginary creatures, sketch with your eyes closed, or visualize abstract concepts such as love, death, and fear. Importantly, the book doesn't take drawing too seriously, which reduces some of the pressure that comes with being a novice when you're only expected to train your unskilled hand and to duplicate basic symbols or patterns found in nature.

As a result, instead of mindlessly scrolling through my phone, I began to draw whenever I got the opportunity: at the airport, on the train, in bed before going to sleep. After admitting that I’m not good at drawing, the realization that I can only get better felt incredibly liberating. The safe space created by the author, where you are not judged but supported, helped massively too. Even the simplest exercises yielded surprising outcomes, and you never knew what drawings they would produce. In this way, engaging in drawing feels a lot like writing, but I believe the same is true for every form of creative practice really. Also, drawing spontaneously and intuitively proved to be far more difficult than I had anticipated. As a perfectionist, I'm learning to let go of the fear of producing sloppy images and imperfect lines. For example, one of the exercises required drawing a scribble and I found myself wanting to draw properly from the start. In my head at that time, a scribble had to be generated with a single continuous movement of the hand, but there are no such rules for drawing. Drawing mindlessly, without thinking, is also difficult, I realized, because you must fight the urge to pause and consider what to draw next and let go of control.

Another unexpected but significant benefit was that drawing with a high degree of concentration and allowing myself to be guided by my hand rather than head allowed me to experience a state of flow that I was unable to achieve through other ways. 

I must warn you that once you’ve finished reading and doing the exercises, you won’t be able to stop drawing. These days, I draw whenever I get the opportunity and I can't imagine going a day without doodling. The book’s purpose, therefore, was more than achieved.