Sigh. So, I said I wanted to “make the arts” this year. And I have the stuff. As you can see, there is no shortage of sketchbooks or pencils here. Let alone all the stuff I showed you already that’s not even in this picture. And yet. I cannot seem to pick up the damn pencil and put it on the page. I do not know why. Art making is actually a “flow activity” for me. I had no problem at all drawing and painting when I was told to do so by my instructor for the Art Therapy class. I have no problem doodling during lectures. In ink, mind you. But to do it at home for my own pleasure? Too intimidating, by far.

So, I have ordered myself one more Christmas present, with two-day shipping: . Yes, Amazon now delivers on Sunday, peeps. Now, I happen to have this book here from the library already. I haven’t used it because I had to wait until Christmas when I gave myself the art materials. And now it is past due. Ahem. I reckon it can stay past due until my copy gets here, right?

I’m just puzzled at my own behavior here. I mean. I can draw, somewhat. Well enough that people recognize what I am trying to convey, at any rate. And drawing is something I have wanted to get back to since I left it in 6th grade. I have read about techniques in several books over the past few months. I have an intellectual grasp of how to go about creating a picture. I understand that my skills are not going to improve unless I start actually making marks on the page. But here I sit waiting for someone to tell me what to draw. I don’t even know why. And to add to that, I have sketch kits here. With instructions, and outlined shapes. That I have had for YEARS. I robbed the pencils out of one of them to supplement what came in this tin, but I have yet to make a mark on any of those, either. So what, exactly, is my hold-up? Why is a pencil, which I use every day of my life, giving me this much anxiety? Apparently, I am just scared of my own self here. Because I refuse to admit that I might be afraid of a pencil. That’s just crazy talk. Who’s afraid of a pencil?

Who’s afraid to do what they want to do and get better at it? Maybe that’s the more pertinent question here. I guess I can think about that while I clean my kitchen and take down the Christmas tree. And perhaps after I have done these things, I will open the library’s copy of One Drawing a Day and make a mark on a page of one of these sketchbooks. One of the little ones. Just a tiny, not scary, itty bitty, barely visible mark on a bare expanse of white. Maybe once I have done that, I can make the second mark a little darker. Like I mean it. We’ll see.