Jeepers, the last three weeks have been a ride.

What happened in the last three weeks? Well, November 15th was when I committed myself to doing my daily sketches. And it sounds like a small thing, in theory. Wake up early, do a sketch before work, shove it under the nose of the collective internet. Tasty. But in those three weeks, the experience of daily sketches has taught me a lot.

I'm a better artist than I ever thought I was.
My weaknesses aren't as weak as I thought they were.
I can accomplish a lot more in 90-120 minutes than I realized.
Different social networks have different tastes in art.

But let's build on that first point.

If, one month ago, you had showed me some of my own work from the past week-- plus the fact that it was all done in two hours or less-- I would have called you a liar. As mentioned in my previous blog post, my art skills had started to atrophy, and I was beginning to question my own skill and vision. But practice really does make perfect. With every sketch I learn something new-- get just a little bit better. And there are a lot of risks involved, but that's kind of the point.

In his book Show Your Work, Austin Kleon writes:

When Radiohead frontman Thom Yorke was asked what he thought his greatest strength was, he answered, "That I don't know what I'm doing. Like one of his heroes, Tom Waits, whenever Yorke feels like his songwriting is getting too comfortable or stale, he'll pick up an instrument he doesn't know how to play and write with it.

My daily sketches are really exercises-- ways for me to hammer out my weaknesses and try new techniques. They're incredibly experimental, and-- as you might notice looking through the gallery-- have a lot of stylistic and technical variety. I wanted to work on my landscapes, so I tried doing some-- and for the record, I was terrified they were going to be disastrous-- but you know what? I impressed myself. I learned that I can actually paint landscapes pretty well. And they've been some of my most popular pieces on Instagram to date. The same goes for my Constantine portrait yesterday. When I started sketching, I was afraid to start from color because I was worried about finishing on time. But I did, and-- it's my favorite piece I've done so far. Twitter liked it a lot, and I even got some cash money tips for it.

Ben Sowards, my professor in college, used to love to say that you never know how far you can stretch a rubber band until it snaps. Art is the same: you never know what you're capable of creating until you pour your soul into an honest effort. And believe it or not-- even if it's a disaster, you'll have learned something from it. I promise you will. And that's the real value of these daily sketches for me. I'm not doing them to earn money or cred or anything-- although I've been making a hard push to build an audience on social media. For me, the act of creation is one of the most exhilarating things I can do.

It's going to sound cheesy, like some inspirational Disney sports movie cheesy-- but for the first time in a long time, I feel like my life is truly in balance. I have time to do everything I want to do, because I'm doing everything in careful moderation. The constant progress and self growth gives me a sense of fulfillment. I'm happy every day because of the sketches I do before work-- similar to the feeling, I think, that a runner has after their morning workout. Because, in a way, it's the same. It's my morning exercise routine, it's just not for my body-- it's for my brain.

I'm just gonna come right out and say it: starting up my morning sketch routine was one of the best decisions I've ever made, and I plan to stick with it for a long time.

Pictured below: new sketches since my last blog update.

Of Music and Instruments and Cheap Metaphors