Hello my dear DrawTogether/Grown-Ups Table friends.
Kicking us off with an important reminder:
The opposite of destruction is creation. It is up to us - you and me - to imagine and create a more loving world for ourselves and future generations. That starts with art. Drawing rewires our brains and hearts into becoming more curious, less rigid, and more caring about each other and the world. So let’s double down on creativity and art as a path forward, together.
Drawing is Looking, and Looking is Loving.
Alright, on with the show.
Growth Patterns
We’re just two days into March. Spring is near1. Tiny buds are beginning to appear at the tips of barren branches. Last week, the cherry blossom trees exploded. Inside my little house, my seemingly stagnant monstera surprised me by unfurling not one but two new leaves.
We are officially “pre-Spring.” It’s still chilly and drizzly outside, and lord knows the world is going through some dark, dark stuff, but something fresh is coming. I can feel it. Things are beginning to grow.
The same thing happens on our insides, too. Before any big emotional growth spurt, there’s always some discomfort. That uneasy, insecure feeling. Like our skin (our whole life!) isn’t fitting quite right, and our usual strategies for coping don’t work. There are all these obstacles we want to change — but maybe it’s us that has to do the changing. So we should feel great about this, right?? Change is fun, right? WRONG. Change and grown may be good, but it hurts.
Have you ever asked a monstera plant how it feels when a new stalk rips out from within its own body?? NOT GOOD. It’s basically a plant-based horror film.
Hopefully we had good enough parents and/or a great therapist and now know that hard feelings are not to be avoided. We need to aim straight for ‘em. Live right through their messy middles. On the other side lies connection, self-awareness, compassion, strength, and love. The other side is Spring.
Or so I tell myself.
SFX: Plant Screams.
ANYWAY. All this is to say, it’s a time of Big Feelings and Big Change, inside and out. Often the things that happen in the world mirror what is happening inside our own souls and bodies. I do believe that is happening right now. It is for me, at least. And one thing we can do that’s better than blaming it on the people closest to us is…
Draw.
And we can draw some growth while we’re at it.
So that’s what we’re focusing on this week. You with me?
Growth Patterns in Nature and Art (and People)
There are many different growth patterns in nature. One of the most common is called “branching.” Strikingly simple and strong, branching is one of the structural building blocks of all life on earth. Including ours. There are several varieties of the pattern, but the most simple representation of a branching is this:
One line begins. Then another lines emerges from that line. Then more lines emerge from those lines. And on and on for generations. A literal and figurative family tree.
Look closely and you’ll see branching everywhere. Not only do trees, ferns, and coral grow by branching, but much of our own body is made up of branching patterns as well: our brains, lungs, kidneys… Naturally, humans have copied natures great design with our own inventions: urban planning, engineering, and circuitry, for example. Fractals in nature and in computing? Yup, that’s branching.
And of course, you can find examples of branching throughout art.
Branching Patterns in Art
A great deal of Islamic Art feature geometric patterns involving branching. Built in 1573 by Sidi Saiyyed, this carved arch over the center doorway of the Sidi Saiyyed Mosque in Ahmedabad, India, an incredible example:
For a more contemporary example, we can look to the work of our oft-cited favorite artist Ruth Asawa (who has a large retrospective opening this year at the SF Museum of Modern Art!) Notice how she starts with a shape in the middle instead of a single point of origin, then braches her lines out in all directions.
Studies show that looking at fractal or branching patterns in nature and art actually lower our stress levels. And since a study proved that repetative drawing lowers stress and anxiety levels, I figured I might as well try some branching myself.
Wendy Branches Out
I wanted to branch BIG, so I started by using a handmade crayon on a 18x24 sheet of loose leaf paper. I started with one point at the center bottom and grew up from there. What felt tight and very deliberate at first opened up into a loose, meditative sort of mark making. At one point I turned the paper upside down so I was drawing down instead of up, and that felt different, too. Way looser. Strong roots instead of stretching stems. I drew right off the page.
Then I flipped it back, added another piece of paper, and continued the drawing below and it wound back onto itself, which I never expected.
When that was done, I drew another one playing around with direciton (the red one below, also in crayon), and then another small pen drawing, and put them all together:
It felt great to do. My shoulders dropped. And I like the way it turned out.
Just FYI, this did not take me 10 minutes. This was a full afternoon drawing session. I’m so glad I kept going. Drawing like this loosened up my arm, my hand, my head and my heart. Since drawing the ones above, I’ve also tried starting with shapes like Ruth did. The process feels different. I quite like it. You might, too. And there’s no better way to find out than…