Sketchbook-ing and perfectionism

For many years now, ever since I started my art journey, I’ve kept sketchbooks. Those sketchbooks were my mini canvasses when I just didn’t feel up to painting something large scale. They also served as surfaces for me to practice through tutorials and art classes. However, as life became more and more chaotic my painting time was more and more limited. In fact, months could go by without me picking up a brush. Which is why when I did manage to carve out some time to sit in front of the easel or even my sketchbook I tended to approach it with the sanctity of almost a religious ritual. The pressure I would place on myself to turn even a casual sketchbook page into an elaborate spread was almost enough to dampen the whole experience for me. Also, I always felt that as my painting time was limited whatever time I had I better create a masterpiece before the demands of motherhood interfered, as so often happened. I would rarely get a stretch of a few uninterrupted hours to paint, which is why I almost always paint at night now when my daughter is sleeping soundly. But even then, it would be a couple of hours at most before I also had to turn in for the night since I had a full time job to wake up to in the morning.

Another reason was that even though my weekends were relatively more freed up than the rest of the week I always felt a little guilty painting during the day because I always felt there must be something that I had to do around the house. It got to a point where it almost felt strange to paint while the sun was out. I got so used to painting at night.

All that to say, I allowed perfectionism to ruin even a causal sketchbook painting. I felt it had to be “good”, I didn’t allow any room for mediocrity or mistakes or heaven forbid bad art. And whenever my sketches or small paintings didn’t turn out the way I wanted (no matter how much time I spent on them) I would get frustrated. In fact, until recently, I barely got halfway through a couple of my sketchbooks that I’ve had for more than 2 years. But as of late, perhaps because I was a bit more confident in my skills and less tolerant of perfectionism, I allowed myself a little leeway when it came to the painting process, not just in terms of my sketchbook practice but also larger pieces on canvasses. I painted more loosely in my sketchbooks, sometimes following tutorials, sometimes when I couldn’t bother with paint I would just do a quick sketch with a pencil or my neocolor pastels. I even started sketching out ideas for larger paintings. I enjoyed the process more because I simply let go my unrealistic expectations. Not every page has to resemble the elaborate stunning spreads that I’ve seen on Instagram. I made mistakes, some sketches are good, some not so good. Most of all, I treat my sketchbook now that way it should be treated: simply as a private place to practice, to make mistakes, to work out ideas, to just apply paint to paper and make random markings if need be. It is not the be all and end all of everything. All in all, I’ve made peace with the imperfection of sketchbook-ing and I feel I’m a better artist for it.