Michael Nobbs

Tag: Drawing

  • I still felt like drawing

    A view of Michael’s early-morning drawing setup on a colourful crocheted blanket. A small open sketchbook shows a black-ink self-portrait with red and dark blue blocks of colour and the handwritten words, “I’ve had a bath but still feel like drawing,” dated 4-10-26. Behind it is a tea tray covered with blue chicken-patterned fabric, holding a round mirror, a cream mug decorated with a hen, a white jug and drawing tools. Michael, wearing dark glasses and holding a yellow phone, is reflected in the mirror.
    A close-up of Michael’s small open sketchbook resting on a colourful crocheted blanket. Across the pages is a loose black-ink self-portrait of Michael wearing glasses, with a large red area behind his head and a dark blue area beside his shoulder. At the bottom he has written, “I’ve had a bath but still feel like drawing,” with the date 4-10-26. A small handwritten note at the top records the early-morning time — 6:34 am.

    Unusually, I still had some energy after my bath this morning…

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  • Early morning drawing and pondering

    A very early-morning drawing setup on the bed. A blue chicken-patterned tea tray holds a bright green teapot, a large striped earthenware jug, a cream mug of tea, a small reading light and several pens and pencils. In front of the tray, an open pocket sketchbook shows a drawing of the same scene, with large outlined shapes of the mug and jug, a blue chicken-patterned background and handwritten notes including “3:34am.”
    A bedside drawing setup with a round mirror, green teapot, cream mug and scattered drawing tools on a blue chicken-patterned tray. Michael is reflected in the mirror holding a yellow phone. In the foreground, an open pocket sketchbook contains a black-line self-portrait against a green background, with a peach-coloured speech bubble asking, “Am I a character in my own comic?”

    Awake at silly o’clock again, but with a gloriously unfoggy brain. So I drew and pondered.

    How would it be if I thought of the pages of my pocket sketchbooks as panels in a comic?

    What if I thought of them as landscapes to be explored and photographed — zooming in, reframing them?

    What if I thought of the photographs of the drawings and the drawings themselves as separate things to explore?

    My brain has disappeared into fog again.

    I shall put thinking on hold for another day.

    Close-up of an open pocket sketchbook showing a black-line drawing of Michael’s early-morning tea tray. A large mug and jug dominate the page, surrounded by hand-drawn chickens on a blue background that echoes the chicken-patterned tray fabric beneath. At the top right, “3:34am” is written in green and black above a handwritten note about being awake so early, while several drawing pens and pencils rest above the sketchbook.
    Close-up of the top right section of an open pocket sketchbook showing a drawing of Michael’s tea tray. Large black outlines describe a mug, jug and other objects, while the spaces around them are filled with small hand-drawn chickens over a blue background. A handwritten notes at the top reads "I'm awake so early that my flask mug is still I the dishwasher." Above, the time is written in large green text outlined in black ink — “3:34am.”
    An open pocket sketchbook resting on a larger red-and-white patterned sketchbook. Across the pages is a black-line self-portrait of Michael wearing round glasses, surrounded by a rich green background. A peach-coloured speech bubble beside his head reads, “Am I a character in my own comic?” Drawing pens and the blue chicken-patterned tea tray are visible above the sketchbook.
    Close-up of an open pocket sketchbook containing a black-line self-portrait of Michael wearing round glasses. Only part of his face and head are visible, beside a peach-coloured speech bubble that reads, “Am I a character in my own comic?” The rest of the page is filled with a deep green background made from visible marker strokes.

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  • Letting myself get used to where I am

    A view of an early-morning drawing setup on a bed covered in a colourful crocheted blanket. A large open sketchbook shows a drawing of a tea tray, with a mug, a jug, a tea strainer and a chicken-patterned cloth rendered in black line and blocks of blue, turquoise, grey and deep pink Neocolor II. The left-hand page includes handwritten notes about finding comfort in the familiar and the date 1-10-26. Above the sketchbook is the real tea tray, holding a bright green teapot and the mug, tea strainer and striped earthenware jug from the drawing. Drawing tools, including some Neocolor II crayons, a short yellow pencil and a purple fountain pen, are also lying in view on the tray.
    Close-up of an open sketchbook on a bed covered in a crocheted blanket, showing an early-morning drawing of a tea tray. The right-hand page contains line drawings of a mug, a jug and a tea strainer among areas of blue, turquoise, grey and deep pink Neocolor II. A chicken-patterned tray cloth is drawn beneath the objects. On the left-hand page, handwritten text begins “5:10am” and reflects on finding comfort in the familiar after a period of stretching himself creatively. We can see pens and pencils on one corner of the actual tea tray from the drawing, just visible above the sketchbook.

    This morning I found myself returning to drawing my tea tray again.

    I wrote:

    Finding comfort in the familiar. I’ve been stretching myself recently. It’s time to stop that for a while and let myself get used to where I am.

    I suspect the biggest stretch last month wouldn’t look like much of a stretch at all to someone looking in: a gentle half-hour chat over Zoom with an artist and educator I admire. But the anticipation of the conversation had left me in a state of anxiety from the moment I arranged it.

    In the end — as the me underneath the anxiety knew it would be — the conversation was very good. Useful, encouraging, and something I think is going to become an important monthly part of my creative life.

    The anxiety beforehand was another matter.

    I’ve recently started using an app called FatigueSense that gives me an allowance of energy points for each day. I usually begin with somewhere around 60. By the time yesterday’s conversation was over, I had eight left, and I was down to zero soon after.

    That feels like quite a clear measure of what anticipation and anxiety can cost me, even when the thing I’m anxious about turns out to be good.

    So this morning it felt important to return to something familiar: the tea tray, the chicken-patterned cloth, the things that are around me every day. Drawing first with the stub of a Blackwing 3, and then reaching for some well-used Neocolor IIs.

    I need plenty more mornings like this in October while I get used to the place all my recent stretching has left me.

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  • Not putting my mirror away just yet

    An open small homemade sketchbook rests on top of a much larger red-and-white patterned Fabriano sketchbook. Across the two pages is Michael’s final Selfietember drawing: a black-line self-portrait reflected in a round mirror, alongside his Stanley flask mug and milk jug sitting on his morning tea tray, which is covered with blue chicken-patterned fabric. “Thirty days of drawing myself” is handwritten across the top. Beside the sketchbook is a small collection of drawing materials, including black and brown pens, pencils, a blue-tipped pencil and an orange pen. Above the drawing, the corner of the actual tray, mug and chicken-covered fabric are visible.

    I feel less bone-deep weary today and even a little celebratory to have reached the thirtieth and final day of Selfietember.

    I’m probably not going to put my mirror away just yet. I’ve been (mostly) enjoying these early-morning encounters with myself over a pot of tea, and I’m not sure I’m quite ready for them to be over.

    A wider view of Michael’s early-morning drawing setup on the bed. The finished pocket-sketchbook drawing rests on a large red-and-white patterned Fabriano sketchbook, with several pens, pencils and an orange pen beside it. Above is the tea tray, covered with blue chicken-patterned fabric and holding the round mirror, an orange Stanley flask mug of tea, a brown-and-cream striped earthenware milk jug and a small white reading light casting an orange glow. Michael and his yellow phone are faintly reflected in the mirror.
    A closer view of the open pocket sketchbook lying across the large Fabriano sketchbook. The two-page drawing shows Michael’s face in his round mirror on the left, with his orange Stanley mug and other objects from the tea tray drawn on the right, all surrounded by the blue chicken pattern. A group of pens and pencils is lined up alongside the sketchbook.

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  • Easier to draw than not to draw

    Early-morning drawing setup on a crocheted blanket. An open sketchbook shows a loose self-portrait in black ink with blocks of red and dark blue Neocolor II. Above it is a round mirror reflecting Michael holding a yellow phone. To the right, a tea tray holds a bright yellow teapot, glasses and a small light. Drawing materials lie beside the sketchbook.

    After feeling so tired yesterday, I went to bed telling myself that I wasn’t going to draw this morning.

    But after waking up at 3.00 am, putting some washing on, feeding a couple of expectant-looking cats and making some tea, I found myself in front of my mirror again, reaching for my lovely red Neocolor II crayon.

    In the end, it was easier to draw than not to draw this morning.

    I’m planning a day mostly in bed to see if I can placate this bone-deep weariness a little.

    Close-up of the finished early-morning self-portrait in an open sketchbook. The face is drawn loosely in black ink, with large round glasses and areas of muted blue across the eyes and face. Bold red fills the background above the head, with dark blue at the right. Three drawing tools rest alongside the page, which is dated 29-9-26 and marked 3:56 am.

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