#003 Quick Writes and Quick Draws

What can I make when I spend more or less time drawing or writing?

Last newsletter, I was thinking about the move from rough to final in illustration and writing. I said that (for me) spending more time on a drawing often made it worse, whereas spending more time on writing often made it better. Part of that has to be about what it’s possible to make in a short time when drawing, versus what you can make in a short time writing. And that’s what this newsletter is about.

Thirty-Minute Writing

What can you meaningfully write in a short time?

When I’m in proper novel-writing mode (and I’m gearing up to get into it again after the October break¹), I start each writing day with a ten-minute free-write. It loosens me up a bit, and gives me the tiny victory of having written a few hundred words before I’ve even started on the serious and sometimes daunting business of writing The Book. That’s great. But the unedited content of the free-writes is basically nonsense. There are a few interesting images, a few unusual combinations of words, a few ideas to pursue. But they do not produce anything that is ‘finished.’

I don’t usually go back and read this writing, but, with trepidation, I’m going to share a couple of snippets of those ten-minute free-writes here so you can see what I mean:

the grate is quiet a griddle a rickle of bones covered over with ashes and odd chewed on ends of wood gnawed by the fire yes there's a tiny glow like a shadow lantern flickering like a candle behind a red-curtained window like a red eye int the wood but it's gone out

eat jam ma mignonne ma chouquette eat choupettes at the vets don't be dull go to mull build a boat go with a stoat on your trip to the island where the hillls and the dips run with rum what fun hard to rhyme and keep the fingers moving

See?

Let’s say that ‘finished’ means ‘any more work on it would spoil it.’ I don’t think I could produce a finished narrative (even a very short one) in ten minutes, or even thirty. But I definitely can produce images, unusual combinations of words, or new ideas. In short, I think ten minutes or thirty minutes is long enough to write a finished poem.

An old ‘object poem’ of mine

Thirty-Minute Drawing

What can you meaningfully draw in a short time?

One of the rules of the three materials drawing challenge (hosted, on Instagram, by Naomi Tipping, Charlotte Durance, and Kathryn Boyt) is that you mustn’t spend more than thirty minutes on a drawing. Here’s one of the drawings I did for that challenge.

I know I promised you pictures that I hadn’t put on Instagram, but this is the only one in this post

I think I could be inspired by it to make another picture, but in itself it’s ‘finished’ in the sense that any more work on it would spoil it.

Here’s an ink painting I did in much less than thirty minutes (maybe two minutes?), that I think is ‘finished’:

I did this one as practice for a dove painting that got sold at auction for War Child, by Doves for Peace

For lots of my drawings, given that I like spontaneity and being able to see traces of the artist, thirty minutes is plenty.

So What Does that Mean for my Drawing and Writing?

When I started writing this newsletter, I thought I was going to be arguing that you can’t produce ‘finished’ writing in a short time, but you can make a ‘finished’ drawing. Now I think I’ve convinced myself that ten (or thirty) minutes is long enough for poetry in both forms.

I think sub-thirty-minute drawings are the visual equivalents of short poems. They can be evocative, but they only contain one or two (visual) ideas. Spend longer than thirty minutes, and you might get the equivalent of a narrative.

Practical thing to do: continue to explore drawing beyond the thirty-minute barrier.²

Last Month’s Practical Points

I’m keeping a note of the practical tasks I set myself in each newsletter. Here’s how I got on with last month’s:

(1) ‘Practice! Draw more, and do more finished illustrations (vs quick sketches).’ Nope. I did not draw more. I drew about the same amount as usual. I finished my A6 sketchbook and moved up to an A5, which seems dauntingly big. To break it in, I drew along to The Sound of Music.

Don’t judge: I did these without pausing the film.

(2) ‘Think about what a drawing revision checklist might include. Find out other tricks to keeping the life in a final drawing and try them out.’ Hmm. This one is a work in progress. I’ll come back to it and do a newsletter all about it some time.

(3) ‘Learn more about putting things together digitally, and experiment.’ Yes! I did this one! In the illustrations for my exhibition The Ghost, the Girl and the Shadow, the ghosts and shadows are paper cut-outs, and the girl and backgrounds are two kinds of monoprint. With a lot of help, I combined them digitally. There’s still room for more experiment - and doing it with less help!

One of the images from The Ghost, the Girl and the Shadow

News

I’ll be running a creative writing workshop on 2 November in Cellardyke. We’ll look at the rules of folktales, and have a go at writing our own stories following the prompts I used for The Ghost, the Girl and the Shadow, breaking or following the rules as we please. Anyone who can write is welcome, although it’s primarily aimed at adults. It’s at 2:30pm at The Haven (the pub by Cellardyke harbour). It’s free, although it’d be nice if you could book.

Community

As always, please do share your thoughts. Have you ever completed a piece of writing in thirty minutes - as in, to the point where any more work on it would spoil it? How about for drawing?

1. I’m telling you this more for accountability than because I think you might be interested.

2. This one’s a bit of a cheat because I was going to do it anyway and I haven’t done all the things I said I’d do in my last newsletter, so I can’t give myself more work.