At the end of a long day one of my favorite ways to recharge is to sit on the sofa with my sketchbook, the pooch snoring beside me, and to zone out drawing whatever is right in my line of sight on the coffee table.

There is no pre-arranging or readjusting of the clutter and, unlike most of my drawings, I don’t plan around composition (although once underway I do allow myself some selective edits). In other words, there’s no sugar coating or prettying-up of these images — they are just the facts.

The subject is pretty much always the same – a mug of tea, cup of water, or can of seltzer that I was too lazy to pour into a glass, plus whatever jumble of books and magazines happen to be sprawled out across the surface. As I’m winding down for the day, this is a relaxing chance to practice without any concern for outcome.

I inherited our coffee table from my grandmother and it has graced our many living rooms for over thirty years. Of Middle Eastern origin, it’s basically a large brass tray with “pie-crust” edges and beautiful designs and characters incised onto the surface.  I can’t begin to do justice interpreting those designs but, provided they aren’t completely covered with whatever we were last reading, sometimes I try to include a bit of them, finding they can potentially add another level of  interest and perspective to a drawing.

The table top sits on interlocking legs that often appear at the bottom of these sketches, an element that may seem confusing if you aren’t aware of what they are. I especially like the way they create diagonals that echo the edges of the scattered books and magazines above.

Side note: This table carries emotional history as well as being pretty and practical. When our kids were learning to walk, they would grab onto the pie-crust edges and side-step their way around the perimeter. It’s a big oval with no corners, so I never had to worry about head bumps then — or once they were fully on the move. Funny how things change. I surely had no idea at that busy time of life that it would morph into a representation of relaxation!

❖

One last and heartening note about the practice of drawing: I was really taken with Terry Gross’ Fresh Air interview with author/artist Jonathan Santlofer a couple of weeks ago. Did you hear it? The episode surrounds Santlofer’s newly published memoir The Widower’s Notebook, and the way that drawing helped him begin to cope with the sudden and completely unexpected death of his wife. His story about drawing during that time is quite moving and, for anyone who draws regularly, I think you’ll agree it rings quite true.
I’m looking forward to getting my hands on a copy.