The Art of Attention

Last week I went into Matlock Bath with a sketchbook.

It was early. The tourists hadn’t arrived. The town was quietly getting itself ready for the day.

I drew the drayman delivering barrels of beer to the pub. Then I wandered down to the river where the pedalo staff were mopping out boats after the previous night’s rain.

Nothing spectacular, just ordinary people doing ordinary jobs. And somehow that felt enough.

While I was walking back, I became distracted by sycamore seeds scattered all over the pavement. I found myself picking them up and looking at the extraordinary variety of shapes and colours. Before long my hands were full of them.

It reminded me of the nature tables I loved as a child.

More and more I’m thinking that’s what sketching really is, not simply making pictures, but paying attention.

I’ve spent much of my life drawing to make a living. These days I’m becoming more interested in why we draw in the first place. Drawing slows us down. It encourages us to notice. And once we’ve really noticed something, we rarely see the world in quite the same way again.

Maybe that’s why a sketch often feels more alive than a photograph. It’s not because it’s more accurate. It’s because it contains time and attention.

I’d love to know what you’ve noticed recently.