The Drawing Table: Black Hole Sun House

When you draw crooked houses, screw up the sun, and somehow it all comes together, and your mom compares you to Van Gogh.

I always name the houses I draw, and this is Black Hole Sun House, a name given mainly because I drew some really ugly-looking designs in the sun, screwed it up, and finally just colored the whole damn thing in. Then I drew a bunch of other designs out of frustration. I soothed myself by eating half a bag of York Peppermint Patties and watching National Geographic documentaries on Egypt.

My mom said she loved the sky and that it looked Van Gogh-ish, which is exceptionally high praise coming from my mother (an amazing fine artist).

“Thanks,” I told her. “I’m glad it looks like I meant to do it because I super did not.”

This is my drawing table and my drawing TV.

There is nothing more restful than working on a house while watching YouTube on a real TV. Am I the only one who is sick of watching all the things on my iPad? I like a real tv.

I should really organize all those cords, but let’s be real. I never will.

You can see the dumb designs under the blackness.

All I knew going into this drawing was that I wanted the house to be flanked by two greenhouses that reminded me of Hagrid’s hut. And I’ve never met a globe light or hanging fern I didn’t love.

I never have a strict plan when I draw, and it wouldn’t matter if I did because I never pull things off quite like I see them in my head anyway. Sometimes the stained glass windows look exactly like I want. Sometimes I screw up the sun. It’s a mixed bag and a lot of fun for my ADHD squirrel brain.

I don’t know exactly what makes drawing these houses so restful for me. Maybe it’s because they require just enough concentration to make the rest of my brain shut up for a while. I can spend an unreasonable amount of time drawing tiny leaves, shingles, and dots in the sky while halfway paying attention to the tv.

When I was little, I drew all the time. And it was usually houses. And now that I’m in middle-middle age, I’ve returned to my childhood pastime, and I have to say, it’s like therapy because in art, just like life, if you screw something up, you can just pivot and do something differently.

Hence black hole suns and career changes and cross country moves.

Sometimes the thing you end up with looks nothing like the thing you had in your head.

Sometimes it’s better.

And sometimes your mom compares it to Van Gogh.