They say the best way to get your creativity going again is to do something out of your comfort zone.
I don’t really like that phrase. I don’t like the idea of there being a zone where you can be nestled in and never need to venture out of lest you want to be horribly scarred for life. Or something.
A few days ago, I was browsing about on Tumblr when I saw a link to the Dr. Sketchy’s Anti-Art School. Founded by Molly Crabapple about seven years ago, it takes a bit of a slant look at live drawing classes, spicing them up by having burlesque and cabaret performers be the live models.
I tweeted that I’d be interested in going, but I wasn’t sure. I’m not the greatest sketch artist in the world and I didn’t want to venture out of that zone and be embarrassed.
Cut to this afternoon, when I arrived at a pub in Islington to venture out of that zone with lightning speed.
The venue was lovely, and I tentatively sketched the stage on which the models would be sitting. That was about the only sketch that I did which I liked. The compère, a sprightly young man named Dusty Limits, guided us through the afternoon, making us sketch models Frankie Von Flirter and Ellie in many different poses. As the day progressed, I felt more and more out of tune with myself until my bubble burst at the end.
I was glad to be going home. Not that I didn’t enjoy it and not that I don’t think Sketchy’s isn’t a totally awesome initiative… It’s me I didn’t enjoy. I could not silence the voice in my head that said that I was way out of my depth. I can understand the value of doing something outside your comfort zone, but I was so far out that I’m having a hard time going back in again.
Still, I actually did it. I trundled through the snow (IN MARCH) (IN SPRING) and went to the event and actually participated in something that made me feel like a twat. I’m now home and I haven’t cried or had a nervous breakdown or anything of the likes. And I actually quite enjoyed the atmosphere.
That must count for something, right?
(I might go again. Might.)