Barn owls and beginner's mind

Hello wild heart,

You all probably know by now that I have a strong affinity for a handful of wild beings (though I, in all honesty, am utterly entranced by all more-than-human beings, even the ones I don’t want to run into in the dark. Or day. Snake friend, I am looking at you).

Owls, ravens, other birds of prey, foxes, wolves, deer.

These are the beings that come into my mind first and foremost when I sit down and think, ok, who wants to come visit me through my pencils or paint today. There are aspects of their unique beingness, their innate magic, the physicality of each of them that hold lessons for me, and as I go further and further into this lifelong practice of art-making and wild-honouring, I only realise that I always have more to learn. More to learn about them, absolutely, but also so much more to learn about myself, and about the way I make art.

You will have no doubt seen the two page spread sketchbook that I started working on when Sage was confined to a pen last year. It was the only way I could take care of her and take care of myself at the same time, through the intense fear and grief and scarcity and sadness. Those moments sketching on the floor beside her are emblazoned on my heart. While I still grieve her, and Seraphina, every single day, I feel like she gave me this profound gift. Respite, healing, connection, curiosity, compassion all between my wild heart, a pencil, and a sketchbook page.

After it being an important part of my daily practice for 10 months, I understood that I wanted to share how to do the same with all of you, knowing that for those of you who feel the calling to make art and honour the wild it would resonate, and we could go on to practise together. To sing the song of the wild, and set our wild hearts free at the same time - always bringing more beauty into the world than there was the day before, together.

Later this week Wild Beginnings will be released. A from-the-very-beginning course to empower you to start where you are, to just start. It is a gentle, guided course for beginners wanting to sketch wildlife. Designed to give you confidence to start a sketching practice, pique your curiosity, build your compassion, and follow your creative wild heart.

Because, at its simplest, it seems like it all starts with a simple line. Pigment dragged over paper by the hand of someone with curiosity, courage, and compassion in their heart. That single line becomes two, and then twenty-two, and then an unfathomable number of marks that bring beauty, joy, and connection into this wild world. But there is more to this practice than just making marks. Because it is YOU that is behind that mark making. YOU that has vision and heart and wonder. YOU that is showing up, willing and ready. 

So what art making actually starts with, is empowering YOU. Celebrating YOU. Encouraging YOU.

Here, in this part of the wild internet woods where we make art together, there is compassion. There is no space for negative self talk, for unhelpful and harsh criticism. There is gentle curiosity, reverence, and respect. Here is a quiet, wild joy, simple wonder, and unbridled awe. Here there is expansiveness, there is unfurling, there is rooting deep into our creativity. There is being a beginner, learning, apprenticing - to our inner artist and the wild.

Wild Beginnings is the very beginning, the wild beginning, of a lifelong conversation with pigment and wildlife. This is where you get to play and discover that making art is not for others, not for those with ‘talent’, it is for YOU. It is for anyone with a curious creative heart. It is a self care practice, and a beautiful way to sing the song of the wild.

Now, you won’t come away from this class suddenly being able to create hyper realistic wildlife art. You will come away empowered to start really seeing, to start building those skills to deeply observe with a creative eye, and to explore your curiosity. I will give you guidance on how to use simple tools to make meaningful marks, and to use all your senses to understand shape and form. And you will do the work of showing up, and keeping going.

This is Beginner’s Mind. Shoshin (Japanese: 初心) is a concept from Zen Buddhism meaning beginner's mind. It refers to having an attitude of openness, eagerness, and lack of preconceptions when studying, even at an advanced level, just as a beginner would. Approaching each session with complete openness, avoiding expectations or preconceptions, allow us to learn new skills and be intentional in our practice. By being receptive, and curious, we can unlock deeper creativity, flexibility, and resilience to challenges.

Over the last 10 days I have been working on a new spread in my sketchbook. 15 to 20 minutes each morning after I walk and exercise and meditate, and before I journal. Barn owls, of all different sorts, in an olive green Derwent Studio pencil. And every day I have been a beginner again, and oh how I am relishing it! I am celebrating learning, connection, and curiosity every day. Every day. Every day I am not sure what will happen next, and the page is far from what I thought it would be initially.

The first owl that fell from my pencil was a revisit of a reference I did live in coloured pencil on YouTube 3 years ago (You can follow along and draw that owl too if you would like! I look at that now and see baby-artist Natalie (sure, baby, at 45, but still), and I am celebrating how far she has come! ). And gosh it was wonderful, that first olive green conversation. I enjoyed every moment - there was no frustration, doubt, or fear, just absolute surrender to the process, curiosity about the glorious wild being in the reference, and curiosity about how I could do this in a pencil that was clearly not going to give me the darks I was hoping for. 

After a couple of days that image was complete, and I thought I would do one study of an eye, another of a foot, a wing etc, but going through my gathered reference it was another face that wanted honouring, and the third, another beautiful face.

Where I usually work in the middle initially, then from top left to bottom right (being that I am right handed), the owls first started travelling across the right hand page, and I let them go where they wanted. I listened, I let my muse (these owls) take my hand and guide me. I looked deeply into their eyes and in utter fascination.

I built gentle, light layers that with repetition became the dark areas that enhanced the light that sang their song. And then there were more faces, and this page has become unlike any of the others. All of those other pages I enjoyed immensely, but this one, oh, this one has my heart. They meld together in a shared beauty that the English language struggles to convey the absoluteness of.

And I feel like I am seeing owl for the first time, even though I honour her often. I feel like I am being seen by owl, and that feels powerful indeed. I find myself wanting to work for longer on them in the morning, but there is a larger part of me that wants to relish this small moment of daily connection too. To be a beginner each day. To value slow and steady, to not ‘binge’ this experience that has so much meaning for me. A tiny daily slice of meditation and adoration. A sustainable practice that I will not burn out from, and that nourishes my heart, body and soul. A consistent practice that I revel in and look forward to.

There are still a few more days of conversations to be had on this page. I started a new being this morning, the one on the far left, and I think there are probably two more to make an appearance yet. I was going to wait until the page was complete to share it with you, but there are days when I wake up and know I need to write. Sometimes I know what I am going to write - I would really like to get better at planning this stuff, let me tell you - but mostly when I go for a walk the wild whispers in my ear that I need to share this or that, that there is a little tale they want to tell through my fingers and a keyboard and my wide, wild heart.

Today the owls let me know they wanted sharing with you, and I always do what the owls say.

And so here I am, standing at my makeshift standing desk because my sciatica is playing up and sitting is no good, doing little ballet points to soothe my restless feet, and turning constantly to the open sketchbook page behind me to make sure I am writing the right words.

I think they approve.

If you are curious about Wild Beginnings, be sure to join my free community The Sketchbook Sanctuary where we talk all things wild art and sketchbook related. I will be letting my community know about the class opening first, and offering an early bird discount for the first three days.

I see you, wild-hearted artist. Come create with us!