This article is part of Mochi Magazine’s summer issue on Art — click here to read the rest of the issue.
For 28 years, my dad was employed as a graphic artist, but his love for art went beyond the office and spilled over into all corners of our house. The notepad next to the phone was covered with more caricatures than phone numbers and messages. He stored kneaded erasers and a tin of colored pencils in his desk drawer. And, when my dad took a sculpture class, he kept a block of clay in the garage, alongside dental tools that he used to add details to his pieces. This meant that I always had art supplies to experiment with — and a live-in instructor — at home. When I was a senior in high school, instead of filling my schedule with more academic classes to boost my transcript, I took charcoal drawing and pottery classes.
As I got older, adulting took precedence. College, socializing, relationships, and kids. Sitting down with art supplies and devoting mental energy toward creativity seemed like a luxury. My projects were limited to my children’s birthday party decorations and bulletin boards for their school. I drew Minecraft characters, Pusheen cats posing with desserts, and sea animals the size of the toddler who requested them. I burned the edges of tea-stained scrolls, painted ancient pillars, and hand-cut leafy vines for an elaborate display in the school library.
The hands-on artistry never failed to ignite a spark of creative energy, but the projects were too short-lived for the flame to fully catch. Each time, the ember would fizzle, smothered by my to-do lists, left dormant until the next project. So when my youngest child started school this past fall and I found myself with more time, I decided to rekindle the creativity that I’d long been neglecting.
One afternoon, I persuaded my 6-year-old daughter to join me for a drawing exercise. The purpose was to draw quickly and spontaneously, focusing more on the process rather than the final image…
Read the full article here