240. Noticing - Kari Gale

Slow down, be present, notice.

I started drawing in a journal a decade ago while making a 500-mile pilgrimage on the Camino de Santiago in Spain. I had been painting in some form my whole life, but prior to the Camino, I didn’t have a regular art practice, mostly because figuring out what to draw or paint was overwhelming. I always felt pressure to create something important—something capital M Meaningful.

But after eight-hour days of walking on the Camino, I was too exhausted to seek out the perfect picture postcard view. I could only capture what was directly in front of me—which to be honest was a considerable relief. Drawing the immediate instead of the aspirational helped me slow down and be present to my surroundings. I began noticing the subtleties of shape, light, texture, and color with fresh eyes and delighting in the art-making process. Most profoundly, I began to see ordinary things as beautiful: a dirt path, a crumbling wall, even my café con leche. When I took the time to pay attention, I realized that everything has elements of the exquisite. 

That was the start of an art practice that I have cultivated for a decade now. It takes discipline and patience; I’m constantly having to remind myself, Slow down, be present, notice. But it’s also changed my life.

I’ve come to understand that things only seem ordinary because we’ve grown accustomed to their beauty. Immersed in the black hole of our phones or weighed down with just getting through the day, our vision grows hazy and clouded. We begin to overlook the extraordinary.

For me, it’s the practice of noticing that’s important; the final drawing or painting is just an outgrowth of the noticing. To retrain my eye, I try to view whatever I’m rendering not as the object itself, but as pure shape, line, and color—because we tend to draw what we think is there, not what actually is.

Slow down, be present, notice. I often wonder what would happen if we applied this practice in other areas—with other humans, in challenging situations. What if we took the time to see what’s actually there before judging or reacting? That would truly be extraordinary. 

- Kari Gale

Prompt

Open your cupboard or your fridge and find something ordinary to draw. Garlic (those wrinkled, paper-thin layers) and peppers (smooth and waxy with curvy lines) are some of my favorites. 

Slow down. Be present. Notice: The silhouette, the color, the texture. Try to view the object not as what it is, but as lines and shapes and colors. Using a pen or pencil or a crayon, capture what you see on a piece of paper. Then write about whatever was extraordinary in your ordinary object.