Friday Night at the Gallery
#266 with scenes from an evening of art.
Dear reader,
Are you the kind of person who visits a local gallery on Friday night? I met many such wonderful people recently. My art is on display in the gallery of the Beaumont Studios, where I also rent a small space to write and draw, and this Friday we had a little party. In today’s post, I want to share scenes from the party, and reference some conversations with guests. I would love to hear your thoughts too!
The SneakyArt Post is a newsletter about secretly drawn art of the world. Every week, I share the latest pages from my sketchbooks and the best ideas from my journey as an artist and writer.
🖼️ I’m just a guy standing in front of a drawing
Reader, can we agree that asking people to come look at your drawings is, fundamentally, a little weird? Of course, I had to do it. Of course, I had to dress up. And people were asking me questions, so I had to say something.
While drawing people in the crowd, I was asked a question about asking questions:
Can you talk while you draw?
Yes, no problem.
Wow, you must be very good at drawing.
People often think that to talk while you draw you must have to be very good at drawing. But that’s not true. I’m just really good at talking.
I put out many sketchbooks on a table because I can talk about them for hours.
✍🏼 I started drawing because words are terrible at their job
That reminds me of what Derrida said!
Every statement is a lie! I learned about him recently.
Intrepid readers will note that French exasperator and philosopher Jacques Derrida has been mentioned before in this newsletter. I learned about his work on the Philosophize This podcast - my favourite way to pick up ideas that are too difficult to read.
Wanting to be a writer all my life, I believe in the magic of words. But the political polarization of the last decade has convinced me that words are not good at meaning things. Words mean different things to different people, at different times, according to their different moods and inclinations. They mean different things based on the stories different people use to construct their worldviews. It is impossible to talk to anyone.
Drawing happened to me when I got tired of trying to be clever with words. In art, I found a way to communicate outside of words.
🎙️ To listen to the story of how I started drawing, listen to this conversation on the Science Friction podcast.
Reader, is there a writer who makes you believe in the magic of words?
💌 Keep a secret sketchbook. Tell no one.
As someone who cannot draw at all, I cannot help but feel that - even in your self-education - talent must play a big role.
Believe it or not, I used to draw stick figures until a few years ago.
Yes, I don’t deny the hard work. But still, I don’t think I could do this even with hard work…
Maybe, but so what? How good you are is irrelevant to whether or not you should draw.
In my upcoming book that-shall-not-yet-be-named, a section is dedicated to the keeping of a secret sketchbook. I think this is necessary for all of us living in the panopticon of social media - that amorphous cloud of other people’s opinions that looms over our heads at all times.
Imagine never dancing because you did not train for it, not singing because you did not take vocal lessons as a child, not making jokes because you are not a professional comic. Silly but, for some reason, we use this excuse all the time to not draw.
We make art, first and foremost, for ourselves. A drawing is a conversation with your own mind, in lines and shapes first seen by the eye, then interpreted by the mind, then expressed by arm and hand on the page. It is a full-body neuromuscular operation that is no one else’s business. And it is good for you regardless of skill level.
Reader, do you make art for yourself?
🗓️ I quit my PhD to become a novelist. But curiosity led me in other directions.
I read in your bio that you almost became a neuroscientist. How did that change?
Well, being from India, I did not have the luxury to simply do what I wanted. We were taught to do what we were good at, and that meant science (for me). And I did that until I couldn’t anymore…
I have left it so far behind it feels like a past life now. But my days used to be full of code and big math and EEG scans. I was on my feet for hours every day, running complicated experiments I was reasonably good at but not exactly passionate about. A PhD program is a gruelling marathon in an exploitative ecosystem and only total commitment can take you across the finish line. One day, I realized I did not have that level of commitment.
Or, I had it, but for something else. I had to get out of this race.
Being a full-time creative is another kind of marathon - but without a finish line, or a set path, and you often do your running alone.
🙌🏽 Thank you everyone who came down on Friday night. Show runs until Feb 5, with a possible extension. Visit the Beaumont Studios in Mt Pleasant and, if I am there, I will give you a personal tour!
💻 I am launching a course to teach How to Draw the Tiny People of your World. Sign up to the waitlist to get an exclusive discount.
Thank you for reading. I am glad to have a space in your inbox.
I so enjoyed reading your post and your thoughts about art and artists. I found you at the wild wonder international conference and watched your webinar. I have wanted to take up urban sketching and looked at other artists works and in books for inspiration but they were all so detail oriented.
I became discouraged until I saw your work. I still struggle with actually picking up the pen and sketching.
Thank you for sharing your talents with the world.
Thank you for your art, your teaching, and your writing. You're a great source of inspiration for me, and im looking forward to learning more from you at the Wild Wonder retreat on Bainbridge Island in August. I'd to share a brilliant writer with you who I first found during the early pandemic lockdown - Maria Popova. She's pure magic. https://www.themarginalian.org/