Playing

Reading for pleasure is a great thing. However, I recently became aware that - particularly since having a child - this was increasingly becoming the one thing I did in my spare time. I always like the idea of writing creatively, also of keeping a sketchbook of sorts, but never really found the time (what an earth did I do before having a child?). Anyway, for the past few weeks or so I have ditched the habitual paperback shoved in the bottom of the bag and replaced it with a sketchbook (in terms of writing of course, I am making the effort to keep a blog).

I have just been away in Brighton for almost a week on a short break for a friend's wedding, and the sketchbook only emerged once to begin sketching a beautiful winter squash (or ghost pumpkin, as I liked to call it) that my brother in law brought from his allotment. This will never be finished as half the squash has since been eaten (delicious it was too, roasted along with carrots and onion and blended into soup; sliced and sauteed with butter and sage then mixed with pasta and sprinkled with Parmesan). Other than that I have managed a 5 minutes here and there playing with colours and textures alongside my toddler, a few rough pen drawings when out and about as a family, and a few pencil sketches when out alone one morning, at the Kelvingrove Museum (a taxidermy Highland Cow from a few different angles) and then down by the Kelvin Walkway and river. I wouldn't say I'm particularly pleased with any of these bits and pieces in a technical sense, but now I can genuinely say this doesn't bother me. Of these, there are some sketches that are better than a photo in capturing a moment as a family; others have allowed me to understand something about mark making and colour; another has created an interesting composition. Sometimes I've only drawn a few lines, began to write a note, then just left it forgotten.

Why outline what could be seen as mundane details? Well, I for one have always felt that the "creative process" eludes me. I have always envied the people for whom this seems to flow naturally. I have worked on this difficulty over the years: I have lots of friends that are artists, I have spoken about it at length, read articles on the topic. I have done a short course in illustration as an adult, as well as studies at school and university. And then I have become determined at various points to "DO" something: have a grand idea and then stew and squirm over it until I convince myself the idea is terrible and it gets abandoned - with just one light touch of the page, if that.

Now, I am not going to say there is one moment or thing that has allowed me to make some degree of progress on this; there isn't. There is a lot I could discuss (the Bronte Parsonage Museum and the under-represented Anne Bronte's pebble collection; a conversation with an old neighbour: "we just need to play more"...). However, one thing that is a barrier is the nature of the process of trying things out; playing, flowing from one thing to the next without analysis or second thought. Watching my toddler drawing and painting has helped me with this:

TODDLER: Never mind the paint, look at the effect water has when I splash it all over the page? And when I push my finger through this soggy paper? And come to mention it, never mind the piece of paper that has been put in front of me - look how great the paint looks when smeared over the newspaper covering the table? There's a whole pile of paper over there! Onto the next page!

ME: [anxiously hovering over, sometimes managing to suppress attempts to control this, often not... another piece of paper, ermmmm, really...... okay....]

Playing. Experimenting. The education system soon stamps out much of this - or at least, it attempts to channel these things into something with "purpose"; an exam, a career, which in turn destroys the essence of what these things are about. In toddlers through to Early Years education, play, quite rightly, is viewed as fundamental in a child's development. However, very soon "play" is something frivolous, something a child is chastised for when they should be working or something consigned to the playground. As adults they are opposites - Work and Play. But doesn't it seem more natural and right for our development, if the education system just continued to support more sophisticated models of play? (an aside: as well as nurturing our creativity, it would be a lot more inclusive). Alongside this, the importance of documenting things is given no value at all as far as I can remember. Notes and thoughts written in a diary, sketches of what we see: these things are rich extensions of life that allow us to see the world in clearer and more varied ways, to hone in on the details of life, which in turn helps us to connect with our surroundings.

We don't judge when in play, because we are just, well, playing. It doesn't matter if there is an end in sight or a focus, we just do it. We are in the moment, free from other thoughts.We live in such a short-term obsessed world, where we often feel the need to justify what we are doing, explain a reason. People don't like revealing their mistakes, the scribbled out or forgotten page. But some people need play - yes to create wonderful pieces of artwork, but for so many other reasons too. And so many of us adults don't know how to do it.