Drawing Every Damn Day

Drawing every day isn’t always easy. Seems easy. Just draw. Stuff can get in the way. You’re tired. You’re busy. You’re sick. I get it.

I used to draw every day. For years. Decades, even. There a few years, back in the early 10s where I almost did 200 pages a year. I slowed down, as stuff happened.

My daughter was diagnosed with an auto-immune disease and we spent a lot of time in Children’s Hospital for a good 6 years. Still, I drew, if not every day, most days.

Then, the Car accident happened and I lost a lot of mobility and strength in both hands, most in my drawing hand. Months of physical therapy and I taught my hand to draw again. Since then, I’ve had fits and starts. I deal with pain and arthritis from the injury, and PTSD from the roll-over crash.

But, ironically, the best medicine, for my mental health is drawing. Without art, I become depressed, anxious and miserable. So, I fight through it. I fight through the pain, the doubt, the self loathing, the fear and the desperation, because I know art is my salvation.

I usually, these days, draw digitally. I miss the tactile feel of pen and pencil on paper, so I’m doing a lot more sketching and doing stories on paper to mix it up. Drawing is drawing.

Draw or die is a very real thing. Researchers discovered that people who engaged in artistic activities, such as painting, drawing and sculpting, in both middle and old age were 73% less likely to have memory and thinking problems, such as mild cognitive Impairment, that lead to dementia.

Right now I am in a stretch of about a month and a half of drawing every day. It feels so good!

I know I’ll go through bouts of doubt and art block. I’ll fight through it and draw.