Life is messy. Life is sketchy. Sometimes we do things, have things done to us, or have the world throw us things that can’t be taken back, can’t be erased. We can choose to hide away from life, from the potential pain of failure, of loss, or we can charge headlong into the fray, drawing boldly and with abandon on the canvas of our lives in broad pen strokes, trusting that it will all be okay.
When I sketch in ink I live in trust, remembering that the beauty lies in the imperfection. The personality and authenticity that can present itself when I let go without judgment are priceless. I look back at pieces I originally hated only to find a pure sort of honesty in them that can bring tears to my eyes.
When I touch ink to paper I may feel fear and uncertainty, judging my work harshly. When I hear the voice in my head telling me that everything I am doing is ‘unsalvageable’, I kindly thank it for sharing and press on. The night is darkest just before the dawn, and the piece often turns a corner just after all feels lost. I encourage you, when you encounter the voice of doubt, to treat yourself lovingly and kindly, and just keep at it.