I have a lot of trauma based anxiety around certain arts. Drawing is one of them, so I decided I wouldn’t think about the drawing. I literally sit with a board on my lap, my sketch book, and whatever I feel the urge to work with. Sometimes it’s pencil and pen other’s it’s my coloured pencils.
I sit and stare at the paper, and let my mind drift. Sometimes I listen to music, other times I prefer silence, or to have the tv on. While my mind floats around I continue to stare at the page. Eventually I’ll pick up a pencil and start to draw. I don’t know what I’m drawing. I have no image in mind. It all starts with a line, and then another, and another. If I find I’m concentrating on it too much I’ll take a break. Walk around, answer messages, and then come back sit down, stare at the page and start again.
I’m often surprised at what comes from it. Sometimes it’s a clear image, but mostly they appear elemental almost. I found it facinating to discover that everyone I showed my drawings to had a different image, or impression of what it was. I eventually made a colouring book out of the drawings.
I didn’t have a name for the experience while drawing. I had dubbed it subconscious drawing. Now I understand that I’m experiencing the flow of Awen.