Step Back, Draw Forward
Being of art school stock, I’ve been enrolled in drawing classes for a significant portion of my education. While my practice became increasingly digital over time, drawing remained an unavoidable skillset. I needed a deep understanding of how to observe in order to succeed in my education and advance my career. As a result, I studied under a single drawing teacher throughout high school, college, and for the first several years of my career. Every Wednesday night, from 6:30 to 8:30.
My instructor, Nikki, was a towering man who was significantly older than his spirit conveyed. Ponytail. Single ear piercing. Pink-lensed glasses. A very dedicated Cadillac driver. His stories of youthful antics far exceeded those of The Region’s star, Jean Shepard (of A Christmas Story fame), often making you think, “What the hell hasn’t he done?” And for most of his eccentricities, he had a reasonable, lock-tight explanation. Pink glasses: a history of migraines. Ear piercing: got it at the same time as his son. Talking a judge out of giving him a speeding ticket by measuring the distance the cop had trailed him on the expressway (back when they had to clock you for a mile): wit and tenacity. Driving a car full of co-workers over a track with an oncoming train less than 20 yards away: complete recklessness. Ponytail: never received an explanation.
One of the most important things Nikki taught me (other than to never get into a car where he was the driver) was to “take a step back.” Although, I’m pretty sure he wishes it had been “hold your pencil lower” because I would build up values too quickly when blocking in my work, leaving myself with fewer choices later which also bears a few weighty insights.
Practically and philosophically, “step back” is a concept most of us understand: move away to gain a new perspective. Take a moment to note the work demanded by the whole instead of hyper-focusing on the mechanics of the part. Yet few of us put this into practice, let alone do it autonomously, when our work most requires it.
“Step back” can feel contrary to the objective of any effort, especially when direct focus feels so entangled with the notion of productivity.
Chronically overworking one part does not save the whole.
When you engage intimately with one part of the system and neglect the rest, you need to understand the stimulus: discomfort and intimidation. You have approached an area that makes you so uncomfortable that you’ve fixated on perfecting your approach in a silo; or you may feel stranded in a sea of discomfort, clinging to the one area you know so well that you’ve become intimidated by the idea of moving from it.
Drawing example: If I’m drawing a figure and I can’t draw hands (I can’t...), I can easily fall into the trap of chronically overworking them or avoiding them altogether. I overwork the details of the hands, pressing my fear and lack of confidence into the paper, or I overwork the details of the face, torso, or trunk to avoid dealing with the hands until the very end.
You can’t showcase your care for your work if you shirk the responsibility of surveying its broader context.
Chronically overworking means you’ve lost your ability to meaningfully integrate the parts with the system.
Drawing example: Hyper-fixating on the details of the hands won’t help me if they’re completely out of proportion with the rest of the body. It’s great that I’ve shown care for the face and torso, but if the hands and feet are drawn in total disregard of reality, the work as a whole suffers. If I’ve avoided drawing the hands, I’ve also neglected the consideration needed to meaningfully integrate them into the system. I’ve likely overworked the rest of the figure to the point of disfiguration, all while biding my time in avoidance.
You miss the opportunity to learn from what you are doing when you deny yourself a fresh perspective.
“Step back” encourages curiosity and growth, the foundation of learning. It can mean physically or mentally distancing yourself from the project, or it can mean stepping away to practice from a place of comfort, prioritizing a slow and steady integration into your practice.
Drawing example: As I’m sketching a new figure, I rough in the hands and take a step back. Throughout the process, I continue to step back to ensure the system retains its integrity. Or, I conduct independent studies of hands, familiarizing myself with the part of the project that has the biggest margin for error, before returning to the original piece and slowly incorporating what I’ve learned into the system.
As I’ve progressed through my creative career, moving further away from my hand drawn origins, it remains impossible for me to neglect the philosophical jewels that are embedded within the technical approaches of Nikki (while also marveling at the fact he still exists in a single piece given his infamous history). I remain grateful that I was able to glean from his wisdom so early in my practice as the practical applications remain limitless.
