A cuter commute
My first draft of this studio note had a different heading:
But as someone who has been commuting for a mere four weeks, I do not yet feel equipped to offer a full-on DTM Studio Guide ™. Maybe by this time next year.
I started a new job a few weeks ago (more on that here). There are a lot of great things about the new position, not the least of which include extremely smart and very kind colleagues, interesting work projects and some travel, a bit of a salary bump, and an espresso machine in the office kitchen.
But it also involves a commute into said office with espresso machine.
Commuting: Much to complain about
In the big scheme of sacrifices people make under capitalism, spending 40 minutes on a subway in the morning and again in the evening is a more minor indignity.
But it's not nothing.
The thing that grinds my gears about commuting is that it is labour performed for your employer, for free and at the employees personal expense. Whether you spend it sitting in traffic or shoved onto a bus (if you are lucky enough to live in a place where public transit is even an option), commuting ranges from a boring use of your time to a soul-deadening slog that drops you miserable into your office and completely crumpled at home at the end of the day.
When I was offered my new job, I felt genuinely torn over the commute. I'd just spent four years working remotely and several years before that working as a postdoc (which involved a lot of freedom to work when and where I pleased in exchange for very little pay). I was looking forward to working with other people in an in-person office, but the shift to getting into work would mean giving up time that I was used to using for a morning walk, illustration, and just enjoying my life.
Making it cuter
It will not surprise you to hear that the solution to making my commute time feel less like a waste of my life involves drawing.
And yet, it has genuinely surprised me how much a nice pen and small sketchbook has helped me enjoy subway life.
Every morning and evening, often crammed into a corner, I've been drawing my fellow travellers.
I've been trying to practice some of the things I learned from Nishant Jain's course on drawing tiny people, which I took during my Art Girl Summer Camp.
One of the thing Nishant talks about in his course (and his really wonderful instagram) is how drawing the people around him has made him more curious about their stories. In my few weeks of commute drawings, I've noticed that I feel a little softer towards everyone else crammed into the subway car.
I'm not suggesting that drawing is some kind of empathy-machine.
The thing about observational drawing is that you have to really look at what you're trying to draw. And when you really look at something, it becomes interesting.
This feeling of being interested in and curious about the people on the morning subway shifts the dynamic of sharing space in a way that feels nice.
Making it faster
Alongside the magic of turning a crowd of grumps vying for space into a people I feel genuinely curious about, sketching on the subway has another magical property.
It makes the whole rigamarole faster.
Weirdly, really looking at the world around me and really trying hard to draw it on a rattling moving vehicle while standing takes a lot of concentration. And time passes.
So much faster than when I'm hunched over my phone, doomscrolling between stations.
Wendy MacNaughton shares no end of thoughtful, smart insights about drawing and its capacity to shape us and our relation to the world. But one that I have thought about almost everyday since hearing it is the act of "putting on your art eyes".
Putting on your art eyes is exactly how it sounds. It means actively trying to see what is in front of you. This might mean looking for the possible line art in a skyline or a backpack, thinking about the different greens in a tree. Putting your art eyes on means paying attention - and not dividing that attention.
(For a more detailed discussion, enjoy this wonderful conversation between Wendy and Mike Birbiglia).
When I put my art eyes on during my commute, I feel like I'm stealing a bit of that free labour back and using it for myself.
And that is a true joy!
Make your own commute cuter
Just start.
It feels weird to draw in front of strangers. But just start.
Everyone is so into their phones or their worries about their morning meetings or how much they are annoyed by the guy who keeps bumping them with his backpack that they will not even notice you.
I've been keeping a very small sketchbook in the same pocket I keep my phone in. When I habitually reach for my phone, the sketchbook is also there making an invitation to have a nicer, faster, more interesting time.
For the curious: I've been using a Stillman & Birn Epsilon Series sketchbook (3"x5" landscape) and a Faber Castell Pitt Pen with a fude medium nib.
If you do start stealing back time with art making or other joyful endeavours, I hope you'll share them with me!
PS: I know this newsletter partially promises some behind-the-scenes looks at my illustration and graphic recording work. I haven't abandoned that! But my Art Girl Summer Camp has grown into an Art Girl Summer and I'm going to keep riding that wave.
PPS: My next newsletter is going to be a little guide to creating travel zines. If you know anyone who might be into that kind of thing, please share this newsletter with them!
