Hi friends,

Various Substacks have warned us that January isn’t the month to go all guns blazing into something new, and that we really should be hibernating until the Spring. Even my own newsletter last week bemoaned the tendency of magical thinking that grips many of us at this time of the year, where we kid ourselves into thinking a new year means automatically transforming into somebody perfect.

I’ve not hibernated, despite badly wanting to. Instead, I’ve taken this time to seize the fact that my executive dysfunction seems to be at bay right now. Perhaps it is hibernating. Bizarrely, for once I have found myself with the motivation and willingness to do things I actually want to do.

I wrote last week that I wanted to try new things and give stuff a go this year, including going to a local portraiture session. I’m thrilled to tell you that I didn’t chicken out - I actually went, it was painless and I genuinely enjoyed myself. I’ve never sketched a portrait in my life. In fact, I don’t know anything about how to actually draw (I know, those of you familiar with my profile image on Substack will be agog at this).

There I was, sat in a small art gallery space, surrounded by 30 or so artists, many of them exceptionally good at water colour, oils, charcoal or whatever it is they used to make their portrait. They had all the bits and bobs artists have, little cups of water and a mess of colours and large easels like they were guest presenting with Bob Ross. Everyone was very friendly. The lady who posed for us was gently warned not to cross her legs because she’d be at risk of developing pins and needles if she stayed like that for two hours.

I sat on a chair and took out my brand new sketchbook and pencils, Home Bargains’ finest.

For the first hour, I produced nothing better than a bad Michael Jackson parody (pun not intended).

At the break, frustrated, I bought and made an instant coffee for a quid, sipped it and realised that everyone was drawing far larger drawings than I was. In fact, my attempt was minuscule. Why was that? Was I embarrassed? Ashamed at my lack of skill compared to everyone else? Yes, that definitely was the case. I was shrinking myself and my work out of fear of being laughed at. Why break the habit of a lifetime right?

It was too late in the session to try to draw a larger portrait so instead I had a second go at the same size as before, but this time I took my time. I had really rushed the first go - a mix of nerves and pressure to just draw something, rather than risk dithering and coming out of a two hour session with nothing on the paper. Everyone else seemed so fast, so effortless and so damn good.

On my second go, I really, properly looked at the woman posing for us and tried not to feel embarrassed. I realised there were shadows on the lady’s face. I realised her eyes were not where I presumed they would be positioned. I looked and looked and looked and took my time with it all. Because I had every right to take up space and be there and learn like everyone else. I didn’t need a licence from the Art Police to be there.

By the end of the second hour, I still didn’t have a likeness of the woman’s face. But arguably, I had drawn the face of someone who could plausibly exist. She looked quite angry. She looked like she could have been in an ITV crime drama with Sarah Lancashire.

It’s the best drawing I have ever done. Albeit, I’ve not done many drawings in my life nor taken art in any way seriously. But I’m proud of going to the session in the first place, not leaving as soon as I walked into a room full of artists, and not giving up when my first attempt was less than spectacular.

I like this giving it a go lark. Think I’ll do a bit more of it.

Take it easy,

Ren