My new kourse

I only started drawing in my late thirties. I was super-motivated but it was a struggle to learn. I read books, I copied the masters, I looked into classes, but ultimately the only thing that worked — was work.  I kept drawing and drawing and, slowly, I figured it out.

In retrospect, it was worth all the effort. Drawing changed my life.  But I suspected all along that there’s probably an easier way. And every time I’d hear someone say, “I can’t draw, not even a stick figure,” I’d vow to myself that I’d figure out some way to make the process of acquiring this skill (and that’s all it is, like juggling or shoelace tying or bike riding or driving — a skill) easier and more fun.

I tried a few times. I wrote about it in The Creative License and again in Art Before Breakfast, I even made a series of crude how-to YouTube videos.

But then, this summer, I sat down and really worked it out. I went back and studied my own process over the years, figure out what had worked and what didn’t, I did further research, I consulted experts, and then I made two dozen clear, fun video lessons that explain how drawing works and how to do it, step-by-step.

I set my standards high. I avoided jargon, I avoided tedium, I added jokes, and corralled my friends, family and even my dogs into helping.  And I decided that the kourse should be something you could do at your own pace, but with the encouragement and support of other people who are going through the same process of discovery and transformation.

And then, to make sure that nothing gets in the way of people watching and using these lessons, Koosje and I decided to move this kourse (and ultimately all of Sketchbook Skool) to a fresh new platform that is intuitive and fresh and inviting.

Oh, and we’d price it to be even more affordable that our other kourses — so the monkey would have one less reason to prevent people from signing up.

Finally, this week, after five months of work, the kourse is ready. I hope it is the first step in launching a lot of extraordinary creative lives. Maybe yours.

You can watch the video trailer below.

If you’d like to try it, sign up here. 

Heads up: Even if you have an SBS account already, you’ll need to get a new user name/password to enroll on our spanking new platform. It’s worth it.

See you in klass!


PS: Someone asked how this kourse differs from “Beginning” at Sketchbook Skool.

My answer: “It’s totally new. Totally different. Beginning has 6 teachers and is a great place for people to start keeping an illustrated journal. How To Draw Without Talent is about the basics of drawing. Beginning is a recipe book, HTDWT teaches you how to boil water and use a knife.”

Ten early New Years’ resolutions

  1. Read poetry.
  2. Have more dinner parties
  3. Delete Twitter.
  4. Delete Facebook.
  5. Buy more flowers.
  6. Meditate.
  7. Self-flagellate less.
  8. Leave New York.
  9. Do more for less.
  10. Fuggedaboutit

Ten living people I’d like to have dinner with

  1. Malcolm Gladwell. There are times when he can seem a little glib and clever clever but nonetheless I have always loved his mind and read all his books and articles hungrily.  I am really enjoying his new podcast, Revisionist History. I think it would be really interesting to have conversation with him , and to get his take on things I am also thinking about.
  2. David Hockney. He’s getting old, he’s pretty deaf, and probably curmudgeonly but I would love to talk to him about painting, technology, and what he thinks about about the new discovery of Rembrandt’s use of optics. And I would just love to watch him draw.
  3. The African dancing woman in the park. Every single morning a youngish woman sets up a table and some buckets and spend about an hour dancing and twirling, playing bongos, tambourines and doing , elaborate graceful African tribal looking dances. Most passersby ignore her but occasionally people stop shout with joy and hug her. I don’t know what that’s about.  She doesn’t seem to be crazy or homeless and but it seems she’s engaged in some long-standing creative ritual and I’m curious about why she does it and what she gets out of it
  4. Hope Jahren. I just read her book, Lab Girl. Slowly, savoring every word of it. She is the Stephen Jay Gould of geobiology, the Oliver Sacks of botany, and makes science  into a wild creative adventure.  I have learned so much about the trees and plants around me through her lucid and compelling words. She leads an eccentric and self possessed life, and writes so beautiful it would be illuminating and fascinating to have dinner with her.  Maybe in a  forest.
  5. Karl Ove Knaussgard. I am obsessed by everything he writes  his memoirs are so ordinary and extraordinary at the same. He both understands and is perplexed by himself and everything around him.
  6. Don Knies. He was my English teacher in 11th and 12th grade. I don’t know if he would remember me but he had a strong and formative effect on me.  I would love to revisit the time we had together to get some clarity on what those years were like from his perspective and learn about what it’s like to inspire writers for decades.
  7. Keri Smith.  I love her books that inspire people to explore and have a creative adventures. We used to be Email penpals but then she became super successful and sort of dropped off the map. She has a new book. Maybe that’s an excuse to try to renew our connection
  8. Mick Jagger. Because he is my spirit animal.
  9. Steven Soderburgh. He is creative and in so many interesting directions. Filmmaking, television, writing, even liquor marketing. He is honest about when he’s bored with something and moves on   And he seems to have integrity and a willingness to tell the monied interests to fuck off. . And his website is hilarious.
  10. Zefrank.  He is funny, insightful, creative, and mysterious. His daily videos were incredibly inspiring. He went off on i all sorts of tangents that I could relate to. He developed a unique ways to talk to a camera. He had a fantastic and supportive community. And then he basically walked away from it. He went into corporate America, working for Buzz Feed, and disappeared off the radar.  I wonder what he’s up to now. And how he continues to  nourish his creative soul.
  11. Banksy. Not just because he’s anonymous. But because he’s brilliant. And relentless. And principled.  And no doubt hilarious.
  12. Mike Pesca.  I listen to his podcast, The Gistm every day. As he explores culture, politics, bullshit, bad jokes, hits of the. 80s.   He makes me think every day.   Even when I think he’s an idiot.
  13. Barack Obama.  Because I already miss him so much.

Ten books I could write next

I published two book this year.  In total, I’ve put out more than a dozen. Is that enough? Have I killed enough trees? Maybe this is the end of my run. Unless I come up with something new to say….

  1. An illustrated history of my family
  2. Everything I know about creativity that would apply to practically any discipline
  3. An illustrated record of a long, dramatic  journey, like walking across America, or traveling by train from London to Mumbai
  4. A Maira Kalman sort of investigation of some historic crime, like Starr Faithfull
  5. A painted record of the dogs of New York City
  6. A graphic novel about a dog’s day and its hidden dramas
  7. 100 Facts about love. Biological, spiritual, perplexing, fabricated,
  8. How to draw. Without talent.
  9. How to come up with book ideas.
  10. Damn. The well is dry.

The fact that this list was the hardest yet suggests that maybe I don’t need to write another book. At least not for a while.

Emptying my pockets.

I’ve collected a lot of inspiring bits and bobs recently  so I’m gonna share them all with you in one fell swoop.

 

I had a great time in Berlin, hanging out with Koosje, with Felix, and making new pals at the Beyond Tellerrand conference. One of my favorite things about the conference was the onstage DJ who sampled my words and then spun them into a new dance track. Crazy!

The onstage DJ at the Beyond Tellerrand conference.
The onstage DJ at the Beyond Tellerrand conference.

Conference attendees shared their sketchnotes on Twitter.
Conference attendees shared their sketchnotes on Twitter.

German friends said this lettering style was pretty much verboten these days as it evokes the old N*zi days.
German friends said this lettering style was pretty much verboten these days as it evokes the old N*zi days.

I came, I ate, I swam.
I came, I ate, I swam.

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This bombed out church in the center of Berlin is a powerful peace monument.

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The Brandenburg Gate oozes with historical significance.

With Felix Scheinberger, Koosje Koene
With Felix Scheinberger, Koosje Koene
Koosje and I had a private tour of Sammlung Boros, the most amazing contemporary museum in an old Nazi bunker in Berlin.  Try to see it if you are in Berlin, but book well ahead of time.

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I got new wallpaper behind my desk. It is macabre and I love it. Even if you don’t.wallpaper

We went to Phoenix to celebrate the first wedding of the new generation.

My nephew, James and his bride, Melanie.
My nephew, James and his bride, Melanie.

Jack came to the wedding, the first time we've seen him since the LA migration.
Jack came to the wedding, the first time we’ve seen him since the LA migration.

My bro-in-law Lenny made it to the wedding, after a horrible summer in the hospital.
My bro-in-law Lenny made it to the wedding, after a horrible summer in the hospital.
While we were in Phoenix, we spent two consecutive nights watching the Supermoon rise.  It was amazing and unphotographable.

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Our family waiting for the Supermoon to rise on Margie’s front lawn.
Saw this on my street.  Check out both sides.

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I found this in a used bookstore.img_8876

And this is a Berlin bookstore:img_8809

I love Javier’s journals. Check ’em out.

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Listening to Badly Drawn Boy after a long hiatus.  He’s always been one of my favorites but he made me too sad after Patti left. (That was the case with a lot of my other favorites too. Time to reclaim them as well.) Three years ago, he played a block form my house so I had to go. He got drunk, belligerent and stormed off stage.  I thought it was the end. But it turns out he was in the middle of a divorce and felt a million mile from home. Now it seems he’s coming back. I’m ready.

Found a new band to listen to: .

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Mac Sabbath. Raw and hilarious.
Got this when I was listening to the Philosophy Bites podcast.

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Ten classes I wish I had paid more attention to in school

I was a fairly good student in high school but much of it was a blur and very little stuck to my brain.

  1. Calculus and Algebra. I think math is probably very interesting but besides  the calculator app on my phone doesn’t play much of a role in my life. I wish it did. I still can’t quite figure out how to do percentages.
  2. French. I took it for five years. I can barely order a croissant in a Parisian café.
  3. English literature. Hawthorne. Faulkner. McCullers. Joyce. Emerson. They were a drag and a grind when I was a teenager. Now I read them for fun but would love to have Mr. Knies to help parse them.
  4. Sophomore year Shakespeare. My professor at Princeton was D.W. Robertson one of the world’s leading experts on the bard.  Now all I remember is that he made us memorize the beginning of Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales and read Boethius’ Consolation of Philosophy. I don’t remember what they were about or why we read them.
  5. 10th grade Latin. I vaguely remember terms like ‘ablative’ and ‘declension’ but, besides memorizing the Lords Prayer in Latin (which I still know by heart), it’s all pretty much a tabula rasa.
  6. 10th grade American History. We had to memorize so many dates. Their significance is long lost on me but I suspect I never knew them. Just the numbers.
  7. Junior year oceanography. I think tides have something to do with the moon but the rest is pretty fuzzy
  8. 10th grade Biology. As my own biology plays more and more of a role in my life it would be great if this science was less of a mystery. What does my pancreas do again?
  9. 11th grade chemistry: a complete blank.
  10. Physics: Did I even take it?
Lesson learned: Education is wasted on the young

Ten ways I could help a stranger

I have so much to be thankful for.  I should use some of my many blessings to help others more than I do.

  1. Teach illustrated journaling in prison
  2. Volunteer at the senior center in Chelsea
  3. Put the contents of my change jar in the Washington Square fountain
  4. Volunteer help to everyone I see holding a map or a guidebook
  5. Buy all the candy from those kids on the subway pretending to raise money for their basketball team
  6. Habitat for Humanity. I like building stuff. Even if it’s wonky.
  7. Give SBS classes for free to any library that requests it.
  8. Volunteer to speak about creativity at NY public schools.
  9. Start the cross-country Sketchbook Skool bus tour with inspiration films, workshops and free supplies
  10. Draw portraits of shooting victims on spent bullet casing
  11. Give away all but one of my winter coats
  12. Donate to and volunteer for Planned Parenthood, the ADL, the NAACP Legal Defense Fund, The Trevor Project for LGBTQ youth, and the Mexican-American Legal Defense and Education Fund.

Who can you help?

An early morning interview

  1. Got up

  2. Got outta bed

  3. Got interviewed about my morning creative habits on mymorning routine.com

4 Shared it with you. Here.

Ten courses I’d like to take

I love learning new stuff, but rarely do it in a systematic way. I should try learning from someone who knows what they are doing for a change.

Acting. I loved acting in plays in high school and college. I directed several plays. I even wrote a couple. The thrill, the camaraderie, the chance to inhabit another skill. So cool, but I haven’t done it since.

Coding. Something I did in middle and high school, when computers were made of wood and animal hide — but it’s a whole new world since the days we wrote in BASIC and Fortran. Maybe app development or CSS, before they become obsolete. Try Code academy.

After Effects. I have a vague sense of it but would love to be fluent with its animation tools . Maybe I’ll start with an online course on Lynda.com.

Clown school. It rocked my world in LA. I should go back.

Cooking. I’d like to study knife skills and the chemistry of cooking.

Singing. I always assume I have no skill and can’t carry a tune. But Jenny has been taking classes this summer and loves it. We could do duets.

Philosophy. I’ve been dabbling in Plato and Aristotle but it would be great to learn from someone who can explain and make it relevant.

History. I hated it in school. Now I love it. Maybe US and European 1880-1914. But many other periods fascinate me too. 1860s. 1770s. 1500s.

Ceramics. I’d love to throw some pots, study glazing etc.

Magic. I mean what could be cooler? Or dorkier?

Swimming. I never really got the hang of it when I was ten and still can’t mange the crawl. How great it would be to be 100% confident in the water.

Carpentry. This used to be my passion. New York City real estate defeated it. I’d love to study in a well-stocked workshop with a teacher with leathery hands and a missing finger.

What would my life have been like if I had gone to law school? Business school? Medical school? Graduate school? Art school? All were fantasies at some point or another.

What would you like to learn?