I’ve begun taking a pencil to bed. At the time when the day has dropped off me and my mind wanders away to leave me in peace, my heart draws my imagination close and the two of them conjure magic. The most deliciously wicked and wonderful ideas land loudly, my pencil a hurried messenger of rapture: this girl is absorbed in hand crafting visions of beauty once more.
My work had been harnessed in the computer aided drawing program i use for years. It was becoming too easy to cut and paste, mirror and rotate, duplicate and extract. The finished and honed result lacked soul, yet my work is in creating gardens of soul. I had removed an important link that let people see mine.
The awakening began in the opulent feast of French Renaissance I plunged myself into a few weeks ago. Roaming through castles dripping in grandeur 500 years old taught me the legacy of hand crafting inspiration. I recognised the sterility of a finished computer drawing would inspire no-one in 500 years time. It won’t speak of the building excitement as an idea is born and nurtured on a page, the progress of thought and heart as the pencil dances over a page. I felt sad at the loss i had imposed on myself.
In Rotterdam I sought out a master of detail. With the 100 year old sketchbooks and drawings of Dutch architect Michel de Klerk in my hands, I felt his passion as a new architectural era emerged from his heart. His mission to bring beauty to the abodes of the working class in Amsterdam is told eloquently through sketches that still breathe life and inspire today. I left knowing something important had changed deep within.
Pencil in hand, I now fill sketchbooks for future generations while enjoying the excitement and passion immensely. The ideas are better,more prolific. I’m happily absorbed, letting my heart talk. The computer will become the dinasoar and i’m more than Ok with that.
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