If you ever need fodder for a good, honest talk with yourself. Here are some thoughts.

Dear Me:

Don’t waste time looking for the perfect sketchbook, pen, location, time.

Admit that this is all just procrastination.

Look back at the why of doing this, the motive you have. The truth behind it all. 

And don’t poo-poo it now.

Don’t mock yourself for wanting to be what you really are.

Work to understand yourself well enough to see your patterns, your self-derailing bullshit, and take that one small step in the right direction.

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Drawing is not a gym membership that goes unused,

a diet book that goes unread,

a resume never mailed,

a garden unweeded,

a bed unmade.

It’s not visiting relatives or doing taxes.

It is just a simple little thing that you will do for ten or fifteen minutes a day.

It’s flossing.

It’s deodorant.

It’s putting on your seatbelt. It’s tying your shoes.

A small, simple first step. 

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Trust me: Everyone who does this resists initially.

If you can get yourself over that hump, a tiny one, you will start to roll. Very quickly you won’t want to stop. And as you gain momentum, you will want to go faster still; you will want to hit the highway, head towards the horizon. 

But first, you have to find a pen.

Yup, that one will do. 

Now, are we alone?

Good. Nobody need know that you are doing this. It’s our secret.

We both know that the next drawing you are about to do will suck.

Totally and absolutely. No one else needs to know that.

In a couple of days, you will be proud it sucked because it will be a benchmark of how far you have come.

And as for me, I don’t care how much it sucks. I have seen and made thousands of drawings you’d be scared to wipe your butt with.

It’s a little ink on paper, like a shopping list or a month-old newspaper. 

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Okay, if you’re not buying this whole “it’s trivial, nothin’, a mere bag of shells,” approach, let’s flip it on its head. 

You have waited for years to make something of your life, to unleash that creative spirit, to have fun and play, to shriek and to dance. It seems like such an impossibly huge leap to take, such a massive and scary reordering of your priorities that you can’t figure out where to begin.

Well, now you know.

Pick up your pen, stick it in the ignition and let’s get outta this place.

Hey, it’s your life.

How much more of it do you want to waste?

Your pal,

You

Your pal,

Danny

P.S. Feel free to print this out and glue it in the back of your sketchbook. Or hang it on the wall. Or tattoo it on your right thigh. I won't mind.