Draw is Life: NEW monthly column!

First column! Plus, timelapse sketch video and puppies in the snow!

What is this column? I’m going to do that classic “answer by saying what it’s not” thing. First, it’s not going to be the definitive answer on anything. It’s not going to be “the way”, I’m not going to preach from on high on how things should be done. 

I draw for a living and in an age when folks are trying to crack the code to making art, but I want to share the human experience behind the images you all see.  This business is wonderful and  treacherous, I’ll share stories here about how I get by.  

If that’s instructive, then cool. But none of this is gospel. 

My name is Mike Hawthorne, and welcome to Draw is Life

Every day, before jumping into pages, I do a warm up sketch of some sort. Sometimes it's an unplanned marker sketch, or some figure drawing, but it always serves as a kind of meditation practice, forcing me to shed the worries I may have carried into the studio and to bring myself unburdened to serve the story I’ve been tasked with illustrating.

The other day I began a warm up and realized my hand was shaking a bit. Nothing too intense, just the way you might feel if you’ve had too much coffee. 

I stopped to let myself feel what this was. Not nerves, it’s just a warm up. It was something more.

It was fear. 

I was genuinely a little scared to start the day’s work. 

I’ve drawn more than I care to admit. Almost obsessively. Not almost. Definitely obsessively. At any given time I have a dozen plus sketchbooks going, each with a different task in mind. One is for layouts, one for color studies, one for working with ink, one for tone, three for figure drawing. Hell, there’s even one in my custom made wallet just in case of emergency. Picasso said “inspiration exists, but it must find you working” so damn it, I’m going to be ready if she shows up. 

I practice drawing out of a love for my craft. I love my craft because it pulls me closer to something I can’t fathom but I know is there, and allows me to be in service to my work. Kahlil Gibran tells us that “work is love made visible.” I love my work. I hope that my love of the work shows in the work itself.

There’s a catch. If we love something, we must lose it someday.

I get to draw for a living, and I’m keenly aware of how incredibly rare that is. I know that I will not have this life of art forever, so every drawing is a miracle. Not because I drew it, but rather because I’ve been given another chance to draw it. To express my love for the work. 

But sometimes, I’m a little scared to draw. Sometimes I forget the miracle of it all, and worry that it will “look bad.” Sometimes I’m afraid I will not do a good job, and maybe no one will like it or worse, they won’t care anymore. I forget to extend the grace to myself that I try to extend to my students when they struggle with the work.

Then my hand will shake. 

The truth is we all know the fear of the new. Starting a new project, new undertaking, new experience. It can all be daunting. I think a new drawing is uniquely frightening because it’s seen as an extension of the person doing it. To make a bad drawing is to be bad oneself. 

In our culture the practice of art is also often seen as a frivolous pursuit, so if you fail well… you should have known better. 

All of that is bouncing around in my head each and ever new day I begin my work. Love and fear are all tied up together at the very moment you need to bring forth the miracle, and all the pressure that entails. I want to love the work, and have that love show on the page, but that goal has to fight past some formidable defenses before it can.

You can’t love like that, not well. 

Luckily, with experience, I’ve learned that the tiny voice of dread all artists have is not to be trusted. I’ve done this long enough to have learned that you can’t plow ahead by looking backward. 

So I jump in. I wish I had some sage advice for how, but I don’t. I just jump in. I make myself draw some warm ups, or layouts, anything to get my hand and brain on good terms for that day. 

It’s simple and straight forward but it does take a leap of faith sometimes. 

I draw with the faith that through the work, the muse may let me make the art live for the people connecting with my work. As I draw the shaky hand nonsense chills out and my love for this work leads the way.

For today.

Tomorrow we’ll start this nonsense all over again. 

Draw is life. 

“And what is it to work with love?

     It is to weave the cloth with threads drawn from your heart, even as if your beloved were to wear that cloth.” 

• Kahlil Gibran

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This is my first time writing a column. It wasn’t my idea, I was approached by a major comics news site to write one, wrote a few, then the company changed hands a few times. Each change brougth a new “boss” to check in with, each saying they were still into the idea, but after a few go-rounds of that I chose not to chase after whoever was in charge at any given time.

So, I’m posting the columns here. My goal is to do it once a month and see how it turns out.

If things work out, maybe I’ll start a second column a month.

We’ll see.

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Speaking of “Draw” and “Life”, I dropped a new episode of my live drawing podcast Life Studied with my friend, artist and model Mairin-taj Caya.

We drop the show a week early for our supporting Patrons over on Patreon.

I also post daily content, process video, the twice-monthly Q&A podcast It Aint Hard to Tell, and lots and lots of art!

Please consider supporting the show over on Patreon.

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While I’m on the topic of my Patreon, I’m posting a step-by-step process post tomorrow of this Aeon Flux commission!

I finished up my commission list and decided to take a few more, contact my art dealer if you’re interested.

Thanks everyone, see you back here next week.

Your boy,

Mike

PS - It wouldn’t be a proper newsletter without a puppy update!

We got some snow here in Central PA, and the boys went bonkers in it! Magnus especially loved it!