Welcome yourself home
See if this experiment refreshes your sight: Pause for a few breaths to ask yourself, "What do you see?"
Respond, internally or out loud, with simple one or two word descriptors of things in your visual field. (Blue cup. Tabletop. Orange light.) Take your time, naming things at a decreasing pace.
Notice the qualities of your eye movements (darting? squinting? smooth?) Watch what's changing.
If you find you're speeding off into a daydream thought-stream, gently and firmly return to simply naming things you see.
Then let the identification and naming of objects slow towards a stop, and continue looking around wordlessly at light, contrast, color, shapes etc for another little while.
Do you notice any shifts, openings, relaxations in your body as you let your attention settle into the present?
"The body is a wonder" --Thich Nhat Hahn. Seeing is a wonder. The world of form is a wonder. NowHere is a wondering.
The world is too full to talk about
All this happens at the speed of thought, an instantaneous gift. Before you make a mark to draw, your visual mind has been engaged in the dynamic creative process of making sense of the world around you.
To draw representing reality, you find yourself making always-evolving spontaneous decisions about what to describe and define, what to leave out, when to linger, when to summarize--all responses to what you see.
That moving dance of creative choice, where does it come from? When the pencil tip touches the paper and the hand gestures, responding to an impulse from vision (skillfully or not): Did 'you' do that? Does it make sense to take credit or blame for the grace or awkwardness of that mark?
"Don't do the dance, let the dance do you....And remember: you are the dance."--Gabrielle Roth
Don't know, don't show
Notice as you go about your life: how do you tend to respond when you don't quite understand what you're seeing, when things are murky and undefined and you don't know what to do (yet?)
Do you strain for more information? Do you become mentally active searching out possible explanations? Might you become impatient or frustrated? Do you speed up or slow down? Do you experience fear, subtle or overt? Do you simply let yourself not-know what you don't know and do the next indicated thing?
What might it be like to draw, or live, in greater cooperation with the reality of Don't Know?
If you find yourself laboring to draw something, struggling to get it right, pause. Rest your eyes a moment. Refresh. Be a witness.
"Both my grandmothers were refugees from Jim Crow terror in the South and part of the Great Migration. They landed in Chicago, poor, raised 9 children each, worked hard and I still saw them both napping, resting their eyes daily, praying and meditating. I'm so grateful."
“May a space to daydream and slow down open to you. May you realize the power of taking rest since no one will give it to you. This is why rest is a resistance and a slow meticulous love practice. We must continue deprogramming from grind culture.”