Drawing at Night

There is just no time in the day.

Like many people, I work more than full time, manage a home, and care for kids. Somewhere along the way, time for myself disappeared.

A few years ago, I made a conscious decision to reclaim a small part of it. Art and nature have always been where I feel most like myself. My current season of life doesn't leave room to disappear for a few hours, but I've learned that creativity doesn't always require large stretches of uninterrupted time.

Sometimes it begins with opening my nightstand drawer.

Inside are a set of Faber-Castell artist pencils, a kneaded eraser, and a pad of drawing paper. When the day ends and the house is quiet the day until the next morning assault begins, I'll sit in bed, put on some music, and choose something beautiful to study.

It doesn't take long before the day fades. Thoughts about tomorrow become quieter, and my attention settles completely on the subject in front of me.

Most often, I draw from the natural world—birds, dragonflies, moths, fish, branches, the moon, or whatever has recently captured my attention. Each drawing becomes less about producing finished artwork and more about the experience of careful observation.

When I look back through my sketches, I don't just remember the subjects I drew. I remember peaceful evenings, soft music, and the feeling of being fully present for a little while. These “nighttime drawings” have become reminders that creativity doesn't depend on perfect circumstances or solid stretches of free time. Sometimes it simply begins with using whatever small moments we can create.

These quiet nighttime drawings continue to remind me that when life feels impossibly full, there is still room to reconnect with myself, to keep learning, and to continue growing as an artist.