Sometimes the quickest drawings hold the deepest truths. During an after-sermon discussion about understanding the love of God, I found myself listening with one ear and drawing with the other. Frank, seated across the room, made a natural model—relaxed posture, thoughtful presence, and a face full of character.
With a pen in hand, I traced his form in a quick contour line, following the folds of his shirt, the tilt of his jaw, the stillness of his hands resting in his lap. Contour drawing asks us to see more than just the surface—it demands patience and presence, a slowing down until the line itself feels like prayer.
Frank became more than a subject; he was a reminder that the love of God is often revealed in ordinary moments and everyday people.
The woods in my backyard. This has been a shit year so far, don't cha think? I get a few minutes relief by looking into the dark spaces between sunlit trees. Trying to see the forms. I'm hoping to get better at just that this summer.
you need:
1 tablet and a pen,
a spoon of imagination,
a software to cook with,
and a single hour
Welcome to my weekly exercise, called Scribble Sunday. I set a timer for one hour and start drawing whatever comes to mind. After an hour I stop and look at the result.
This handsome guy came out of yesterday's drawing exercise.
Please enjoy! - Crypto
