People assume that because I’ve spent decades as a photographer, graphic designer, and now working at Adobe, creativity is just part of my bloodstream. And it is, but there’s a difference between working in creativity and escaping into it. For me, that rediscovery has been drawing.
I live in a small bubble, and I like it that way. I don’t watch the news. I don’t argue politics. I don’t scroll LinkedIn pretending to be inspired by fake humblebrags. People have been fighting and burning things down since the beginning of time. I don’t need a news feed to remind me of that. Instead of wading into it, I draw.
Drawing is the perfect introvert activity. It’s quiet, it doesn’t ask for anything in return, and it doesn’t come with the pressure of having to please anyone else. As I get older I’ve found myself less and less willing to do things I don’t actually want to do. I don’t have kids, I don’t have family obligations dragging me places I’d rather not be, and I don’t have to keep up appearances in social circles I don’t care about. Some people might call that lonely. I call it freedom, and it’s effing fantastic!
So far this year I’ve been to five National Parks and six major art museums. I’m taking classes at RISD and learning from online experts I admire and respect. I try to be intentional about what my mind consumes, chasing inspiration instead of letting slop get thrown at me. Nature fuels me, which is why I keep going back to the parks. Other artists fuel me too, which is why I spend so much time in museums and classes. That same mindset has carried into the studio, where I’ve been reaching for mediums I ignored for years: markers, watercolors, pencils. Each one feels like rediscovering a toy from childhood. I queue up an audiobook, grab a sketchbook, and lose myself for hours.
Drawing has become a reset button for my brain. It isn’t about productivity, or proving myself, or padding a résumé. It’s just me, a pen, and the page. Time disappears. I’ve always been creative, but this feels different. For the first time in decades, creativity feels entirely mine. And the bonus is that it’s not just enjoyable, it’s healthy. I recently listened to Your Brain on Art and The Age-Proof Brain, both of which talk about how making art can keep the brain flexible, improve memory, and strengthen imagination as we age. Picking up a sketchbook is meditative, but it is also a way of keeping my mind in shape. I’m sure the memory part is going to kick in soon, but I’m still waiting on that.
Maybe it’s practice for something bigger, maybe it isn’t. I like the idea that one day I could do editorial illustrations or license my work, or even lead urban sketching workshops. But honestly, that’s secondary. Right now it just feels good to have rediscovered an old friend.
