I finally did a linocut for the first time. I’ve had the gear for ages, but I came up with lots of excuses why I couldn’t. It’s too messy. I don’t have time. I don’t know what I’m doing.
One day, I decided to do it, instead of just thinking about it.
I dug out the cutting tools and lino, some ink and the brayer. And my coffee grinder.
First off, I drew the thing. I know how to do this part. It feels normal. It’s a kind of “home base”.
But then came the cutting. The part I didn’t really know how to do. I know how to use a knife, but I don’t know the “right” way. Whatever that is. This “not knowing the right way” is what held me back.
I didn’t know where to start, but I had procrastinated long enough. I didn’t bother watching a tutorial; The problem with tutorials and research is that you’re not actually doing the thing. And I learn more when I do.
But once I started, it just worked. I made a couple of mistakes, but overall, the thing felt fun. Satisfying. It’s process-focused.
Each cut clears a bit of the lino. It’s slow and careful. It’s about removing what you don’t want. It feels like the inside-out version of my normal process.
I was hesitant to get into linocuts because I am so impatient. I like getting results quickly. This is partly why I like drawing so much. But the slow and careful nature of cutting the lino was soothing. Relaxing. Joyful.
I was improvising and learning. There is joy in not knowing what you’re doing. In letting go of expectations.
Studio desk covered in shards of lino, I squeezed a bit of ink onto a sheet of perspex. I rolled it out, inked up the plate and made some prints.
It was a little bit messy, but that was easy to deal with. Getting over the mess in my brain and convincing myself to do it was the hard part. Once the stuff was on the table, and I got started, everything felt pretty easy to do.
The prints turned out better than I expected. There are flaws, but they are done.
I bet there is some creative endeavour that you want to try, but you’re not doing it.
My advice? Do it.
With the right attitude, trying something new can feel like play.
I used to be a bit too serious. I got focused too much on outcomes, beating myself up a bit when anything didn’t work out. I don’t do that anymore, but I do procrastinate.
I think too much about trying new things. And thinking about them isn’t just doing nothing. It’s also stopping me from doing. It’s a negative, not even a neutral.
And whenever I finally do something I’ve put off? I enjoy it.
There is a certain joy in having no idea what you’re doing. Not being bound by the rules and habits that you’ve tricked yourself into.
Cutting lino isn’t tricky, and most things are simpler than you think. My mental model was tricking me into not doing the thing.
You don’t have to know what you’re doing.
You just have to do.
Happy drawing
Andrew
PS Here’s the lentil soup recipe from last week’s post
BTW, your post about digging little holes in the same place to reach gold---I am actually following your advice and your inspiring posts.
I am doing the work. Little by little.
I drew a large beetle yesterday, instead of taking a photo on my phone. It means a lot more when you draw it. These beetles are the size of hardboiled egg yolks, they are covered in thick, dark brown armor, they are not attractive.
I didnt spend too much time---I just did it which was a big step for me. I give you the credit!! I love your posts and your work and I shared your post with an artist friend in a similar situation--she literally stuffs her unfinished sketch books in a drawer so they don't make her feel guilty. I have told her about you. 💕 Sincerely, Debi in Cabo Corrientes, MX.
I also have several small sheets of Lino and the tools waiting for me… they’ve been collecting dust since last fall. I’ve done it before, but it was a lifetime ago. What am I waiting for?! Thanks for this reminder to just do the thing!