WRITING BLIND

Blind contour drawing is the practice of putting a drawing utensil to a piece of paper, covering one’s hand with another piece of paper so the hand is no longer visible, and then drawing an object using a single continual line. The method works to illustrate what is important to the eye. It works because the image is not visible to be interpreted during the drawing process, the eye-hand communication reveals how one views an object without prejudice or preconception. It is a practice that never gets old. The images are intriguing because no matter how long one has been drawing, the isolation of one detail over another or the preference for one through line over another, will always come as a surprise.

In many ways, my writing has become a form of blind contour drawing. By calling upon memories when I write, I am mapping the through line of some earlier experience. With each thought or small vignette pulled from my past, I draw another connection, and reveal something to myself in a new way. Years ago, I wrote what I thought was going to be a memory about our house in Iowa city. It had a front walk with two small steps at the point where the neighborhood sidewalk began. Instead of a piece about the house and the neighborhood, it turned out to be about sitting on the steps, watching the miniature world of our old weedy lawn while I waited for the big kids to come back with my Saturday ration of candy. It proved to be a real revelation to me. I had thought to write about the old neighborhood. Instead, I found the memory of watching the ants working amidst the clover and veronica to be a much more vivid and interesting memory. I now recognize it was an early memory of how I learned to observe the world around me.

Just as an artist learns through blind contour drawing to trust their hand to be guided by their eye rather than their brain, as a writer I have learned to let the words I use move about at random, rather than toward a conclusion. As a result, I look back at my writing and have a new sense of how I have become who I am today.

The past is full of endless decisions made and roads taken. With each choice comes the possibility of regret or achievement. In the same way a blind contour drawing can produce an unanticipated image, the best pieces I have written all share a freedom from expectation. From the hodge-podge of my random thoughts and memories, I have learned to articulate a new understanding of my artistic journey. Writing has helped me realize what makes me a visual artist, and to recognize and celebrate the path I followed getting here.