Are You My Drawing Table?

I spy ... a drawing table underneath it all.

I have never drawn at my drawing table. It’s a treasured possession that has moved with me several times, and yet it’s never seen a drawing completed. As an artist, this must be sin.

I bought the table five or six years ago, part of a New Year’s resolution to do more art. I quickly pieced it together, but when I sat down to draw, I instead curled up on the end of the couch with a board, happily drawing away. Soon, the table became a storage space, buried in books, drawing notes, a cat collar, and a few plant pots and other random things. The table soon traveled to a new house, this time to a dedicated art room. It again accumulated odd and ends. It was cluttered. My life was also cluttered with things that were not nurturing me. I wasn’t doing much art at all.

 I moved again, and the table again came with me. In this move, I lost a vital screw that kept the table tilted as a table. Instead, it was parallel to the wall. The table was empty because it had to be. It couldn’t even do its job as a table. I eventually bought a new screw, and the table returned. This time the table stayed clean and clear of everything … but dust. It was important to me that I the table clear, for that physical empty space kept a bit of mental space and sanity alive as I moved through the end of a marriage. Occasionally, I ran my fingers over the table, drawing wavy lines across in the dust. I still wasn’t creating much art. The table was a silent reminder of what I was not doing. I wondered why I kept it, but I knew not to get rid of it.

The table moved a third time into my tiny apartment. When I checked the place out, I mentally placed my drawing table in one corner. Everything else worked its way around it. The third move proved to be the charm. My desire to create returned full force, stronger than it's been in years. However, I always work on the floor, on the futon, on the kitchen counter ... anywhere but the table. However, this is all right, for the table houses current art project “pieces” … paper oak leaves waiting for stringing, rocks waiting to be wired, dictionary pages waiting for an idea, along with scissors, beads, string, tape, a hammer and other things waiting to be turned into other things.

I still don’t draw at the table, but it is now doing its job. It’s allowing me creative space, and it keeps projects in the forefront of my mind. I have abated my sin.