Jenna Leigh Design Co.

If you read my last post (A Race Against Time), you may remember that there were a few goals I wanted to accomplish for my next urban sketching outing.

• Sketch the rough proportions of the structure very loosely before refining the drawing.
• Focus more on larger shapes & forms before becoming fixated on details & nuance (always a struggle for me).
• Use a watercolor sketchbook that is dedicated to urban sketching & plein air painting.
• Don’t stress about perfection—each time I practice, I gain experience, and this is pretty new to me.

Listing them here helps keep me accountable, so I must be honest about how well I followed my own advice this week.

Goals 1 & 2: so-so
Goal 3: yes!
Goal 4: not so much…

I have been enjoying the watercolor sketchbook. It makes me feel like a more adventurous artist, like someone who can just sit down and paint anywhere, on a whim, and almost carelessly produce something fantastic. It makes me want to travel.

I hoped this week to find more of a “zen” with urban sketching, rather than letting myself feel so stressed by the limitations of time, skill, materials, etc.

Let me tell you how that went…

Drawing Process

For my first drawing, I decided to sketch Liberty’s Medical Building. I pictured myself sitting aesthetically on the grass, sketching while doctors-in-training looked on with admiration…

However, I quickly realized that any position close to the building would result in an intensely close perspective with little space to include its imposing grandeur.

Therefore, I ended up in my car at the far end of the parking lot.

Truth be told, though, it was an excellent view and not too uncomfortable. I was able to sketch and ink the drawing in about two hours, and overall I was satisfied with my work. (I painted it with watercolor at home later.)

Finally, the stress was gone. I had Starbucks, a safe and comfortable place to sit and draw, and a straightforward view of a beautiful building. I found my zen.

For my second drawing, I found myself at the Flour District later in the week, and since the aim for this week’s homework was to include people from a public setting in our drawings, I thought this would be the perfect opportunity.

I had a short time to draw, so I finished the pencil sketch and inked it in later in the day, including a few people from the café in the drawing. This was tricky, since it meant the added challenge of finding accurate human proportions along with the perspective.

The café was relatively busy, but I chose to draw just one group of chatting women and one woman working by herself. This contributed a sense of liveliness and community (found in all of Lynchburg’s coffee shops) to the drawing, as opposed to portraying a room full of empty seats.

The next day, I was able to go back to the Flour District, sit at the same table, and keep working, refining the sketch and painting it. There were so many little details, so much I wanted to include, so little time before they closed…

The zen was gone. I felt stressed again, limited by my abilities and the time I had to complete the work.

And here’s why:

Reflection

I want everything I create to be a finished work.

I don’t naturally want to experiment.

I don’t want to take risks or produce anything less than my best.

I want to include every detail of what I draw or paint, and I want it to be a fully complete, precise, neat, lovely piece of art.

Is that too much to ask?!

This whole class has been consistently pushing me out of my comfort zone and relentlessly forcing me to let go of my perfectionism.

Oof. It hurts. It always does.

I want to do justice to whoever or whatever I draw. I want to draw them as God made them—fearfully and wonderfully.

I want to paint every individual tile on the Flour District’s floor.

But sometimes, certain limitations will simply not allow for that. I can only work with what I have: the abilities, the time, the resources.

And I must learn to be satisfied with the results.

Because maybe I can still grow, and learn, and improve, by doing just that: my best, with what I’ve been given.

Even when it is far from perfect. Even if it feels like less-than-finished work. Maybe I will be a better steward of the gifts God has given me if I think less about perfection and more about persistence. If I give Him my best in every circumstance, I know I can trust Him to take care of the rest.

So when the urban sketch isn’t exactly what I’d hoped it would be—

Phew. I can relax.

It was an experiment. I tried something new. I challenged myself.

And in that, I have done well.