Scribbles

From time to time I like to draw in my diary. Now I'm no great artist or anything. I like to draw as a form of meditation. I try to make myself forget about what my mind is registering and draw what my eyes see. It's not as easy as it sounds. For example, if you were to draw your living room chair (which would be a totally normal and hip thing to do, by the way), you might be thinking "chair" as you put the pen to paper. This one thought affects the drawing because your ideas of what a chair looks like (whatever picture comes to you when you hear the word) will superimpose themselves onto it. It is much harder (and makes a better drawing) to draw it as if you have no idea what a chair is supposed to look like. As if you have never in your life seen anything like this. You are just drawing this object in as much detail as you can, line-for-line, according to what you see with your eyes. You just have to trust that the drawing will look like the chair in the end. It's an exercise in faith, really.

On a less cerebral note, looking at the picture I notice that I spelled my husband's name wrong. I am married to Bryan. Although I have nothing against Bran, I am not in a relationship with it.