Michael Nobbs

Category: Studio Notes

Short updates from my studio about the day’s work, small moments of practice, and the gentle rhythm of making.

  • Needs Must in a Crisis

    A full view of the drawing “Needs Must in a Crisis,” made in the middle of the night after Michael discovered all his favourite mugs were in the dishwasher. The drawing shows a glass mug of decaffeinated tea on his familiar tray, drawn in Blackwing 3 pencil with subtle areas of Neocolor II Light Olive. Above the drawn mug, the handwritten text reads: “Middle of the night (decaffeinated) tea – all my favourite mugs are in the dishwasher, so I’m making do with this glass one (once a favourite 25 plus years ago). Needs must in a crisis…” The page sits open in a large Moleskine sketchbook, lit softly by lamplight, continuing the ongoing Tea-Tray drawing series that documents daily rituals and recovery.

    Middle of the night. Decaffeinated tea.
    All my favourite mugs were in the dishwasher, so I reached for this glass one — a forgotten favourite from more than twenty-five years ago.

    So, I made this drawing (Needs Must in a Crisis) in my current sketchbook (29-08-2025 – ), a large Moleskine that I’m enjoying using. It was made with a Blackwing 3 pencil and Neocolor II Light Olive. I’m not very sure about it. Drawing the glass mug felt quite alien, not as satisfying as drawing one of my Go Gently hen mugs. Nothing familiar about it. Making me realise just how much of these drawings are from memory (perhaps something easier to do when my brain is tired?) and how little from observation. Last night I was forced to observe and don’t feel that I did very well. That feels a little disappointing, but good to note.

    Anyway, sometimes it really is needs must in a crisis — and sometimes that’s enough to keep the rhythm going.
    A small reminder that even when things don’t go to plan, there’s always something to draw, something to notice, something to keep you company in the quiet, dark hours.

    A close-up, straight-on view of an open Moleskine sketchbook showing my “Needs Must in a Crisis” drawing, focusing on the sketchbook itself, with the tea-tray and glass mug of tea peeking out from behind it. The image conveys the intimacy of a late-night drawing session — quiet, domestic, and gently self-observant.

    Posted in:

    , ,

  • Two Cartons of Oat Milk

    Sketchbook drawing showing two cartons of oat milk, a mug, and a teapot. Handwritten text reads: ‘Two cartons of oat milk on my tray this morning. I’m feeling very jittery. Am I drinking too much tea? I hope not!

    Here’s today’s Tea-Tray drawing. The text reads:

    Two cartons of oat milk on my tray this morning.
    I’m feeling very jittery.
    Am I drinking too much tea? I hope not.

    Often (usually?) my drawings are simply a record of a moment, of what’s here in front of me — the clutter, the small absurdities of my tiny life, the quiet noticing of how I feel. Today it’s two oat-milk cartons, a teapot, and a cup of tea that’s probably gone cold while I was drawing.

    Open sketchbook on a tray beside a mug of tea, two cartons of oat milk, and a green teapot. The drawing on the page shows the same scene with handwritten reflections about drinking too much tea.

    Posted in:

    ,

  • Getting this Site Online

    My laptop showing the new Studio Diary site live for the first time, with yesterday’s tea-tray drawing open on the screen.

    I got this site — my new Studio Diary — online last night, sometime after midnight, once the last bits of code were behaving. It felt good to see it live, sitting quietly in its own corner of the internet.

    I realised as I was finishing up that this domain, michaelnobbs.com, has been mine for more than twenty-two years now — first registered back in October 2003. It’s strange and rather comforting to think that this quiet corner has been here all that time, patiently waiting through the different versions of my work and life.

    This new version of the site feels like a gentle return as well as small beginning. I hope it can become a gentle record of my days in the studio (or in bed!) — drawings, reflections, fragments of reading — gathered slowly, without pressure. A place where the pace of making can stay close to the pace of living.

    In its own quiet way, this site feels like another form of drawing — another way of showing that I exist, that I’m still here, paying attention.

    Posted in: