A birthday self-portrait
Instead of sharing my daily drawings (of which there were few) this week. I thought I'd share my annual birthday self portrait.
Several years ago I started a tradition of drawing a self portrait on or around my birthday. It was inspired by Rembrandt, who painted many expressive and honest self-portraits throughout his life-time. The self portraits track his emotional, physical and creative maturation.
I'm not Rembrandt, and I don't paint in oils; even so, each year I'm challenging myself to draw or paint something to represent the moment, the week, the day, that I grew one year older.
This year's drawing is very small, just a simple pencil sketch in my tiny moleskine sketchbook. Did I catch my likeness? To be honest, I think the sketch was perfect about 3 minutes before I put my pencil down. I added a few too many strokes, and lost some of the intensity. However, I think it perfectly captures my current mood of introspection.
Today isn't my birthday. However, on the day, I spent a lot of time reflecting on what has happened in the past year and what I hope will come to fruition in the next year.
Do you have any birthday traditions?
Feeling inspired? Please share, tweet, pin or favourite!
Go Back in Time...
Weekly drawings: week 9
{The tower of St. Hippolyte's Church}
We have spent the week in Zell am See, Austria, where my husband snowboarded and I relaxed with Little M and filled my sketchbook with Alpine views.
I packed a minimalistic art kit: a tiny moleskine sketchbook, a few pens, pencils and brushes, and a small palette of watercolour paint. I felt a bit confined by the small selection of supplies, but that's not a necessarily a bad thing when it comes to art. Sometimes limiting the options forces one to solve problems more creatively.
I'm planning to do two travel posts in the next week to highlight the beauties of Zell am See and Salzburg. But, for now, I'll just share my little sketches.
{The mountains}
{A 16th century building on the town square}
{Experimenting with watercolour techniques}
{The Festung Hohensalzburg castle in Salzburg, started in 1077}
Related Posts
Weekly Drawings: Week 8
{This picture expresses everything...}
This was the first week when, no matter now much I wanted to, I couldn't keep up with my resolution to draw every day.
You know what? That's ok.
I'll start again tonight, and keep going with my 365 drawing resolution. If, by the end of the year, there are 350 (or less) instead of 365, it doesn't really matter. What matters is that the resolution gives me a reason to sharpen my pencils and open my ink pots.
So here are 4 drawings for this week. That's still over half the days, so I think I'll consider it a success. (After all, the most important thing is that we're gentle with ourselves...)
I take all the photos with my iphone4 (geriatric, I know), and the pictures always look so crisp and light on my phone screen, but when I upload them here they appear blurry and dark. I wonder why?
And... we're off to the Austrian Alps tomorrow! I'm sure my sketchbook will be filled with mountains and skiers/snowboarders.
You can follow along in real time on my
or Instagram. ( @janeheinrichs )
Why I'm doing daily drawings
{All photos taken with my iphone4}
I'm not just doing daily drawings for the sake of a fun challenge; they are an essential part of my new existence as a mother.
Just before Christmas I was diagnosed with post-natal depression. I felt like I couldn't recognize myself in my new role. I went to my GP and was referred to a therapist. The options seemed to be weekly therapy (which wasn't possible without childcare) or antidepressants. I wasn't sure what I was feeling was acute or chronic enough to need medication, so I decided I needed to construct my own method for recovery. (Note: Had I thought what I was experiencing was severe enough, I would have accepted medication without question).
Daily drawings were my answer to the problem.
So far I've managed to draw every day this year but one (when I was just too exhausted to lift a pencil). Each small drawing is like a shot of creative happiness into my veins.
This practise is, quite literally, art therapy.
Do you have any creative endeavours that lift your spirits? What are they? I'd love to know.
This week's daily drawings
A Drawing a Day update #2
I had intended to write a post for my usual Wednesday blog slot, but this week carried me away in a tidal wave of diapers, soothers, and unfolded laundry.
It's not that time is rushing, because it isn't. In fact, I sometimes feel like time has never passed so slowly since Little M was born. Each second seems new and strange, and something to adjust to. I'm grateful for the apparent change in pace, for I can savour each delightful moment in its fullness (both length and depth, for time is not just linear).
And, when I can, I sketch.
In time, I want to focus on writing as well. And I was thinking of writing a series of posts on journalling.
Would that be of interest to anyone?
Follow the growing sketchbook on
or
.
A Drawing a Day
As you might expect, adjusting to life with a newborn hasn't been easy. Amidst all the joyful cooing and smiles, there are teary meltdowns and wakeful nights. At first I thought I would never be able to draw or write again. But as Little M grows, week by week, I'm finding that we're feeling more comfortable with each other and our new routines.
As an effort to nourish all the creative facets of my soul, I'm trying to draw something every day. Even the smallest sketch, or the action of picking up my pencil, makes me feel more whole.
I've been posting each tiny sketch on Instagram, Facebook and Twitter and the words of encouragement from all my followers are giving me the courage to continue. If I can... if I'm brave enough... I want to challenge myself to post a drawing every day this year.
Do you think I can?
A Day in the Life of a Children's Book Illustrator
I thought it would be fun to share a typical day in my life as an illustrator. Right now we're in Cape Town, but my routine rarely changes whether I'm here, in London or in Canada. It's just the scenery that changes.
7am: Wake up. Stumble bleary eyed into the blinding sunshine in the kitchen. Pour a glass of cold orange juice and will myself to wake up.
I wish I started my morning by reading something erudite, or meditating, but I usually end up checking Facebook...
8am: I walk down the hill to the post office to send off the most recent order from my Etsy shop.
Luckily it isn't far to go. It's already so hot that I make sure to find all the patches of shade on the way there and back.
This is the view I see on my way back up the hill. Our house is the one with the brown door in the garden wall. The frangipanis (also called plumeria) are blooming so beautifully this time of year. There's a wisp of a Table Cloth on top of Table Mountain. That means it's going to be a hot and windy day.
8:30am: On my way back from the post office I like to stop by Vida e Caffe for a cappuccino. Vida is a local coffee chain with a wacky, energetic feel. I love how they decorate their paper cups. Which moustache are you? I also love that they give a square of dark chocolate with every coffee order. I'll save mine for later....
{Coffee on the studio table and ready to work}
9am: I'm already hard at work and listening toBBC Radio 3 online. I love how the classical music gives a sense of order to my crazy imagination.
Right now I'm working on a big book project for Magination Press (a job I got through my agents at Advocate Art). The deadline is fast approaching, so there's no time to spare.
When I'm painting I go into a zen state. I focus. I breathe deeply. I concentrate on the colours and patterns unfolding under my hands.
Any work I do in the morning is like double work. It's that magical time of day when my ideas flow and time seems to cooperate with me.
10am: I find myself googling things like "chalkboard brushes" and "monarch butterflies" to look for references for my current project. I also spend a bit of time trying to win a game of solitaire while my paint dries.
{This is how illustrators do their hair... with a paintbrush.}
{Dive into the colour!}
12 noon: Noon Gun! Boom! You'd think I'd be used to it by now, but I always jump. The noon gun has been marking midday in Cape Town since 1806. It's loud; it echos between the mountains; sometimes I spill paint...
It wakes me from my painting reverie and I remember that I should eat lunch. Wait a second, did I even eat breakfast? (Usually not). I make beeline to the fridge and graze from last night's leftovers.
12:30pm: Back to the drawing board. Literally. By now I'm starting to lose concentration.
In the afternoon I often focus on smaller projects, or work on scanning or photoshopping illustrations I'd started the day before.
If I don't have pressing illustration work, I'll write blog posts, or brainstorm ideas for new projects.
....Oh dear, my eyes are drooping.
2pm: Time for that square of dark chocolate. Thank-you Vida!
3pm: Unless I have a super-stressful deadline, this is the end of my work day. I take a long bath, to ease my aching muscles. You wouldn't think working as an artist would be that strenuous, but hunching over paintings can make my shoulders so tight!
After my bath, I unfurl my back muscles with a short session of yoga.
3:30pm: I rush to the grocery store (aptly named "Pick and Pay," I laugh every time I think about it) and figure out what to make for dinner. Sometimes I pop into the bookstore for a little inspiration, or grab another coffee.
4pm: Skype time with my Mom in Canada! She's finally awake and I can tell her all about my day.
6pm onwards: I make supper, and my husband and I settle in for a relaxing evening. Sometimes we have a glass of wine; sometimes we watch a dvd; sometimes we read; sometimes we escape the heat and head to the seaside.
10pm: Time to curl up in bed and close my eyes. Tomorrow will be the same, all over again!
Here's a one minute video I made of me painting... Enjoy!
Swooning in the Cape Town heat {a little animation}
{Swoon!}
It's summer in Cape Town, and it's so hot.
So, so, so hot.
The noon gun has just fired (as it does every day). The air is so still that the reverberations from the blast have shaken the frangipani flowers from their branches, and now they're wafting down in front of my window. Across the street someone is playing sultry saxophone.
If I slouch in my chair (as I often do), I can see the top of Table Mountain peeking above the roof of our house. It's shimmering in the heat today.
It's so hot that I think the paint is melting on my palette before I can even get my brush into it.
The heat always brings out the diva in my characters; they always seem to have minds of their own. This little girl was frustrated that I wasn't paying enough attention to her heat-induced swoon, so now she's swooning over and over and over again. Ad infinitum.
The grass is always greener on the other side isn't it? I envy all you readers who are cozily cocooned in winter. Oh! For the snow and the hot chocolates and the great big fuzzy scarves. Enjoy it while you can!
{Note #1: I posted this little girl last year, but as I have so many new followers, I thought some of you might enjoy seeing her brought back to life)
{Note #2: I'm not sure if the animated illustration works for email subscribers, so you might want to click through to the blog to see it.}
Being Inspired and Playing with Sketches
{Queen Elizabeth and her people}
One of my favourite things to do on a Saturday afternoon is go to an art gallery and sketch from the great masters. A few weeks ago, I went to the
exhibition at the National Portrait Gallery in London with my dear friend
.
I had so much fun sketching Queen Elizabeth I and all her courtesans and contemporaries. There were so many hats! So many outlandish costumes! I decided to challenge myself, so I worked into the sketches with ink wash (which, unbelievably, I've never done before). I really loved the warm tones the sepia wash gives the sketches.
Which made me wonder... why had I never tried it before?
This reminded me of how important it is to keep growing as a creative person. I may spend every minute of my day drawing and painting, but it can still be too easy to fall into routines. I have a habit of reaching for the same art supplies every day.
A year ago I was contacted by Whitney Sherman to contribute to her book
. She had been searching the blogosphere looking for innovative sketchbooks, and appreciated the way I regularly draw in museums, being inspired by the old masters.
So much so that I've even written a children's book all about it!
is a book with 50 creative exercises, grouped by difficulty and theme, designed to help you grow as an artist. The exercises include word games, dimensional shapes, and inventive sketchbooks and letterforms, eventually creating a “toolkit” of ideas and skills developed through the process of play.
What's really great is that each exercise is illustrated with examples from real sketchbooks by real artists. Whitney Sherman contacted artists and bloggers from around the world to feature in her book. She included their website or blog details, so if one particular exercise or artist really inspires you, you can hop online and check out more of their work.
I'm featured in the section on drawing from the old masters.
What kinds of things do you do to keep your creative fires burning? How do you make sure you don't get mired in stagnant waters, but keep the river of ideas flowing freely? I'd love to know!
{A collection of left hands from the National Gallery, London}
{Here's the page I'm featured on!}
The sun will keep on rising and setting
{Full Moon - Camps Bay, Cape Town}
Just a little note to say:
- I arrived home, acquired a vicious head cold, and immediately dove head-first into work towards some looming deadlines.
- I'm resolving to do more landscape sketching/painting, and this is the fruits of my first effort. Yesterday the full moon was spectacular, inspiring, uplifting.
- The moon always reminds me to breathe deeply. The world is bigger than we imagine, much bigger. There are possibilities of all description beyond our reckoning. When we're worrying about our little patch of earth (our careers, families, etc), sometimes a larger perspective is important. As Anne of Green Gables said, "The sun will keep on rising or setting, whether I fail geometry or not."
'Til next week!
Oh, and I'd love to see you over on
or
. Come say hello!
Looking through old sketchbooks
I used to do a lot more sketching than I'm doing now. Yesterday, I was sitting in Johannesburg airport, bored out of my tree, and I started drawing. I drew whatever I saw: the strange space-station-style architecture, the flat horizon, the huge thunderclouds. And as I was drawing, I remembered how much I love it. It was like meeting an old friend, and realizing when you see their face how much you've missed them.
I don't draw, really draw, nearly enough any more. There always seems to be something else to do, even painting can get in the way. (because we all know that painting isn't really drawing)
Yes, I'm an artist, and I don't draw every day. It sounds terrible to admit it.
This afternoon I had to open up the storage box that held all my old sketchbooks. There was a client in the States who wanted a scan of a sketch I'd done at a Leonardo da Vinci exhibition a few years ago. I didn't know exactly which book it was in, so I had to thumb through all of them.
I hardly wanted to look; I wanted to cover my eyes and only peak through my fingers. Sometimes I don't want to see my old illustrations, because I'm not happy with them. Wouldn't the sketches be even worse?
But I've decided that the only way to move forward is to be vulnerable. So I looked...
...And guess what! I loved those old sketchbooks! I loved how much I was experimenting; trying to figure out how to see the world on paper. I loved that I made mistakes, and then drew more to figure out why something worked or didn't work. I loved how I could see the progression in my style and confidence.
How do you feel about old work?
I've posted both of these sketches on this blog before, but I thought I'd share them again.
Here is one of the sketches of Joburg airport.
Those were the days
I'm having one of those "Anywhere-but-here" days. You know the ones. When things suddenly pile up and it feels like it might be easier to escape rather than face the immense to-do lists.
A lot of times when this happens I imagine myself escaping to somewhere I've never been. Shall we follow Gauguin to Tahiti?
But this time I decided to imagine myself in a place I've been before; someplace where I was really happy. I scanned through my travel pictures, and hit upon Tuscany. Our time in Italy was filled with autumnal sunshine, wine, olive oil, and lots and lots of happiness. (That's where we got engaged, after all!)
So here we are, an antidote to the to-do lists: a sketch of the many towers in San Gimignano, Tuscany.
What do you do, when you feel the to-do lists towering over your head? I'd like to know!
Adventures in.... Zimbabwe and Victoria Falls
So, here I am in bed with some sort of tropical fever; at least, I have a fever which I acquired in the sub-tropics. It's actually just some sort of pesky ear/nose/throat infection, but it sounds much more dramatic to call it a Zimbabwean Fever, don't you think? It was well worth it as I got to see the largest waterfall in the world: Victoria Falls on the Zimbabwean and Zambian borders.
I resolved on this trip that I was going to keep a travel sketchbook. As much as I love sketching on location, I often find it difficult to achieve on holidays because I'm always rushing around trying to "see" everything, so I don't take the time to stop to draw.
This trip was different... there isn't much to see in the small town of Victoria Falls, except (you guessed it) Victoria Falls. There is one mostly paved road with a bank, a few tourist shops, a grocery store and a police station; then there are several amazing four star resort hotels, and the Falls. And all of this is surrounded by impenetrable bush. So, there wasn't much else to do but stare at the falls and sketch, which suited me just fine.
So here we are, a few sketches of "The Smoke That Thunders" and the mighty Zambezi River. Aren't hippos cute? Don't be fooled! Which animal kills more people than any other in the world (aside from mosquitos?) Hippos! They're the most dangerous vegetarians in the world. Which is a shame, as they look so cuddly and cute.
And now, back to bed, so that I can recover from the Zimbabwe Fever before Christmas.
The Diamond Jubilee in pictures
This weekend I was privileged to be in London while Queen Elizabeth was celebrating her Diamond Jubilee weekend. It seems to me that the whole nation has gathered together in a rare atmosphere of complete joy.
Every street is bedecked with bunting and streamers; every garden is fragrant with multitudes of English roses. The whole city simply blooms with rose petals, ribbons and bunting.
I didn't attend any of the events, preferring instead to watch them in the comfort of my home on the telly. However, we live so close to the Parks that I heard the loud "hip-hip-hoorays" and the fireworks after the Jubilee concert carrying through the night air. And, the planes that flew over the Palace also flew over my flat. From my own cozy lounge I felt like I was in the centre of the action!
Previously I didn't give the Queen much thought, except to know that she's on our money, and on my passport, and that she is the head of the Commonwealth. However, the Jubilee celebrations uncovered my nascent affection for her. Why? I love her because of her gentle, feminine influence. The world can be such a harsh place filled with conflict and hatred. The Queen is a benevolent spirit who travels around listening to people and protecting the arts. And, that's what the world needs more than warrior dictators, don't you think?
So long at the fair
Just a little ditty to cheer up a Wednesday.
I loved singing this song as a child. I woke up with the tune in my ears, and had to put a little sketch to paper.
And, if you have a moment, and you need a little inspiration, you can listen to Julie Andrews singing a variation of this nursery rhyme
.
The Sea! The Sea!
Being a prairie girl, I've never had a close acquaintance with the sea. I've admired it on summer trips; I've stuck my toes in it and shivered; I've dreamed of living in a beach house; but, it never seemed like a "real" place. The seaside was a dream and a vacation, not a home.
Now I find myself living within a short distance from two seas: the Indian Ocean and the Atlantic ocean. Each has its own distinct personality and moods, and each are inspiring in their own way. And I love them both!
This new friendship with the sea led me to contemplate children and mermaids. How much fun would it be to have a secret mermaid friend?
The Cape Town Aquarium
Riding Horses in the Atlantic.
Illustration Friday - Stripes
Here's the sketch for today.
I've been staring at a blank piece of paper all week, trying to figure out what to do next. I have two large projects that need starting (need finishing actually, but starting comes first). Do you ever get that crippling feeling of artistic insecurity before you start something big?
It got so frustrating this morning that I just had to draw SOMETHING. So... I did an illustration friday painting. The theme was "stripes." I didn't want to over-think the challenge, as I've been over-thinking my projects all week, so I just did a simple stripey portrait.
And, you know what? Suddenly I think I have more creative chutzpah to tackle those overwhelming projects. :-)
Sketching Llandudno - Cape Town
I promise, I have been drawing every day. I just can't prove it. Really. Every day I sit down with my sketchbook and watch my pencil skim across the paper. Sometimes I'm happy with the result; sometimes I'm not; and, sometimes, the sketch turns into something I don't want to share. What I mean is, they turn into something more substantial, a full painting that I will share at a later date (you know, to keep the suspense going).
These daily drawings have forced me to really think about my style. What is my visual language? How do I make marks on paper? The trick with drawing is to be able to anticipate what might unfold. You need to draw as though the sketch could turn into a full painting. That means different things for different people, as everyone works differently. For me, it means working with clear lines and tones (three shades: light, middle, dark).
The exercise has forced me to draw with greater clarity. I have to see clearly in order to be able to draw clearly.
Above you see a little pencil sketch of Llandudno, a lovely bay in Cape Town. To the left is the Klein Leewkoppie, the smaller lion's head mountain. This tiny sketch was done quickly, in my evolving visual short-hand. I couldn't draw them, but the waves in the bay were teaming with seals frolicking in the waves.