Creating Analog

Working By Hand In A Digital World

When I sit down to do my creative practice, it’s not on a laptop.

It all happens in a sketchbook or notebook.

Instead of typing on a screen, I uncap my pen — the same brand I’ve used for almost forty years, bought by the dozen at the office supply store.

There’s something about that familiar pen that creates a ritual. This is a place of return where I feel at home.

Along with writing by hand—sometimes on top of painted pages—I use simple art supplies that dry quickly to make marks, sketches, and collages.

Everything fits in a small box or tote and can expand or shrink depending on the environment. From tiny apartments, with only a kitchen counter as a surface to a backpack while traveling.

My analog, portable creative practice started out for practical reasons: moving constantly as a kid. Never having much space. This was before the internet. Before everyone carried a computer in their pocket.

Keeping a sketchbook was the home I made for myself.

Analog vs. Digital

That’s why creative practice, the way I teach it, happens analog.

“What do you mean by analog?” a student asked me in class last week.

I mean working by hand in a sketchbook. Writing longhand. Drawing, painting, collaging on paper.

As opposed to working in a digital environment on a screen.

We’re creating at a human pace that is soothing to our tired, overextended nervous systems.

There is tactile pleasure in smearing paint across the page. The sound of your pen scratching the paper. The smell of crayons and pencils. The delight of tearing up paper and gluing it down.

Have you tried it?

The Return To Analog

There’s a growing return to analog media. People are buying physical books, records, DVD’s and even cassette tapes. Second hand shops are selling more record players and old physical objects that require time and attention.

Is it nostalgia for the past? Are we burnt out from staring at screens? Some say it’s a revolt against streaming and subscription services.

I think it makes sense that people are reaching for more analog experiences right now. There’s relief in giving ourselves a break from the digital world. Coming back to IRL - In Real Life.

My friends know that my response to feeling saturated is to go 19th Century. A long ramble in the woods. Reading a book by the fireplace. Dipping my pen or paintbrush in an ink bottle. All the better when shared with someone else who also wants to go rogue and be offline.

Call me a romantic. I’m OK with that.

Conveniently, my analog creative practice fits into this 19th Century reset.

Working in a sketchbook by hand is a physical experience.

It happens in the present. You’re responding to one thing after another.

Instead of consuming or producing content, you’re involved in the act of making something just for yourself.

And this will take you anywhere.

I hope you’ll try it.

A related creative practice for working with this is shared with paid subscribers in a separate post: