Webster's Dictionary defines the word
sketch as "a rough drawing representing the chief features of an object or scene and often made as a preliminary study." Note the word "rough." Because the drawing is not intended to be a finished work, pressure is relieved from the sketcher. It becomes all about the "process" vs. the "product." And this is why I find sketching to be such a joy.
For me, sketching serves as a design tool for work, and a past-time hobby. Ever since I was a child, my parents nurtured sketching; in fact, we would go on "sketching day trips." Sketching continued to be part of my life as a student studying architecture abroad where I spent hours sketching the monuments of Paris and villas of Palladio. In the beginning I sketched to learn for a school grade. Later, sketching gave me a purpose, something to do after summer jobs and while hanging out by myself. As a person who spent a lot of time alone, sketching was perfect.
Over the years, the process of sketching became more than the actual act, but an event that included finding a subject of inspiration and a perfect spot (most likely in the shade, and away from traffic and curious observers). This alone could take hours, sometimes more time than the actual sketch itself. It was this process of discovery – searching for the perfect site by foot or bike and exploring the unknown – which I grew to love so much.
As my life and work are more and more compromised, sketching becomes a form of therapy; helping me feel better about myself. It also serves as an outlet to express myself and a way to document my life.
Mountain climbers climb mountains because they love the challenge and it is also similar to practicing meditation when they can forget about life and just concentrate on the singular act of climbing. For me, sketching does the same thing. Sketching is a dialog between your eyes and hand that allows your brain to enter into to a realm of deep concentration; where you can forget everything around you and lose track of time. It can be very therapeutic and stress relieving, just like meditation. I love Paul Klee's quote "A drawing is simply a line going for a walk." One can lose oneself in a sketch and the result can be surprising and rewarding.
The hardest thing about sketching is finding the right time and place, since it is a solitary act. Being alone is difficult, especially in our social world. These days I am occupied by the needs of my family, which is probably why sketches of family life overwhelm my sketchbook, as well as many commuting train travel sketches. However, with all my commitments and priorities I find the time or I make the opportunities. Idle moments, such as waiting for friends or for the bus/train are perfect times for a "challenging quickie sketch." A café with a good view, up on the roof, or sitting in Union Square or Madison Square Park are great places for a lunch time sketch.
Even though I am in the habit of having my sketchbook with me at all times, I have to admit, the majority of the time it returns home sketch-less. I find I have to be in the right mood and/or inspired by the subject/idea. Sketching seems to happen in waves, since a book, movie, podcast, friends or just plain laziness easily distract and tempt me. It really makes me admire the amazing prolific sketchbooks of Leonardo De Vinci. One year I made a resolution to sketch (almost) everyday in a journal. It could be about anything, a thought, an idea. It took a lot of discipline. But eventually I realized that I was not Leonardo. My sketchbook didn't burst with ideas, it contained mostly observations and documentation of daily life (yawn).
Through that experience, I realized that I don't have to be like Leonardo to enjoy sketching. I think everyone is different and finds inspiration in many various things. I see some of my colleagues sketching design ideas in their journals, and I see trace paper filled with sketches lying around the office. This makes me happy to know that sketching is still very much alive. Even after so many years, I am still a shy sketcher but I have learned to ignore the curious eyes next to me on the train; I just pick up my favorite pen, go into the "sketch zone" and remember Webster's Dictionary definition for "sketch." It isn't about the end result, it is about the process.