Missed my usual stop three times this week. Too absorbed in drawing to notice where I was. There’s something magical about morning rush hour on the subway. Everyone locked in their own worlds, yet moving together like schools of fish. Been filling pocket sketchbooks with five-second portraits.
No time for details. Just essence.
Discovered something interesting about human movement patterns. We all shift our weight the same way when the train lurches. Universal choreography of commuting. Got some strange looks from a businessman today. Showed him the sketch. Now, he sends me reference photos of interesting characters from his morning commute. The key to subway sketching? Work small. Really small. Thumbnail-sized drawings capture urgency better than full pages.
Bought these brush pens from that tiny art shop in Chinatown. Perfect for quick gestures. The line weight changes with pressure – like the ebb and flow of crowds. Started categorizing my sketches by subway line. Each has its own character. Blue line is all suits and briefcases. Green line, more students with heavy backpacks. Red line feels like a theater company in constant rehearsal.
Had this breakthrough moment watching a woman apply mascara during a tunnel delay. Perfect stillness surrounded by motion. Started exploring that contrast in my sketches – finding the static moments in chaos. The underground light does strange things to faces. Been experimenting with just white gel pen on gray paper. Sometimes less shows more.
Remember what my life drawing professor used to say? “Draw the space between people.” That’s where the real stories happen. The gaps tell you everything about urban relationships. Started a series called “Subway Hands.” Phones, books, handrails, coffee cups. Hands never lie about who we are or what we’re feeling.
Met another sketch artist on the J train. We did blind contour drawings of each other. Learned more about gesture in those three stops than in months of practice. The sound of the subway changes how I draw. Found myself making marks in rhythm with the track sounds.
Started recording the ambient noise to play while working up sketches in studio.
Interesting how people wear invisible bubbles of space. Even in crowded cars, there are these unspoken boundaries. Been mapping these negative spaces. They tell stories too. Some guy watched me sketch for six stops, then showed me his old sketchbooks from art school. Underground art appreciation society.
Realized something today – every subway car is a composition waiting to happen. The doors frame scenes like Renaissance paintings. Started thinking about classical composition in modern contexts. Lost my favorite pen between stations. But the ballpoint I borrowed from a nurse had this wonderful scratchy quality. Sometimes limitations birth new techniques.
Next, I’ll post about drawing people wearing headphones – the peculiar tilt of checked-out heads. But for now, I think I just missed my stop again.
