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I have a suggestion for a great resource and inspiration for drawing. Maurice Sendak’s Where the Wild Things Are. You remember this book, right? It’s iconic and fun and a little fierce. Kids understand it on a base level, even if they’ve never read (or been read) the book. Though so many have. The monsters are approachable. You can actually learn to draw them. They look cool, but they’re not intimidating to attempt. That combination matters. This weekend, I got to see what happens when you give kids pencils and show them they can draw their own monsters. And I was once again reminded of why combining everything you’ve ever liked doing is so much better than picking just one lane. This Past WeekendOur church had a youth retreat called Discovery. High schoolers develop the curriculum for the weekend, including putting on talks for middle schoolers over two days. It is awesome on many levels. There were some heavier topics like losing faith, questioning God, being angry, scary and painful moments, and how they came back from all that. The theme was “the wilderness.” The whole thing was pretty deep, but in a good way. Singing, some yelling, dancing, emotion everywhere. I was there drawing all weekend, doing graphic recording during the talks, which most of the kids had never seen before. In the middle of all that intensity, I led a drawing session. Thirty to forty minutes of quiet and sit-down time. I used Max and his Wild Thing friends as the prompt and showed the kids they can learn to draw something that looks cool, even if they don’t think of themselves as artists. Kids who had been overstimulated by everything else that weekend got quiet. They picked up pencils. They sat still for almost an hour when some of them can barely sit still for ten minutes in a normal classroom. They made something with their hands while the rest of their brain settled down. What Made It WorkThis worked because it wasn’t just art. It was everything coming together at once, for me. This is where it dawned on me, yet again. I’ve been a summer camp counselor. A special education teacher who knows what overstimulated kids need. A defense contractor. An actor. A welder. A youth worker. A confused & anxious teenager myself, once. I’m a father. An artist. A professional listener. A disruptor. All those experiences prepared me to create what seemed like the exact thing these kids needed in that moment. A quiet space where they could participate without being overwhelmed. Where they could make something with their hands while the rest of their brain settled down. Surprisingly, even helping them feel safe. I drew almost nonstop on Saturday (the only day of the week I typically take off from illustrating something). I didn’t even notice all that I had drawn because everything was flowing together instead of being kept in separate containers. It happened so fast I didn’t realize I was pulling from all of my experiences at once. Until Megan & I did notice and it was a fantastic “aha moment”. So many job descriptions want us to do really specific things, and they only get about 33% of who we are for eight hours a day. What if you could bring 100%? We categorize everything. “Wade is an artist, therefore Wade can only do art”. But what if I’m an artist who also understands youth work and special education and what it takes to help kids who are struggling or and I am trained in active listening and proactive disruption? When those things combine, really cool stuff happens. Your Own Wild ThingsFull transparency: Megan asked me to write this newsletter. Why? because she wants to ask you something, the same thing she asks students at career days or professional development sessions: where in your life can you combine your passions to work the most for you? It doesn’t have to be a church retreat or working with kids or art, like mine. It could be anywhere, when the things you’ve done and the things you love overlap. Maurice Sendak’s monsters work as a drawing exercise because they’re fierce and approachable at the same time. That’s the combination that lets kids engage. Using them in the drawing session worked for me this weekend because it combined all of the things I love doing and feel confident with. Father, teacher, artist, actor, and youth worker, etc all in one room at the same time. Your life has fierce parts and approachable parts. What are the things you’re good at and things you care about? Where are the places where your weird resume actually makes you the perfect person for something specific? These kids got quiet and made their own monsters because someone brought all the wild things he’d ever done into one room and made something useful out of it. Now that someone is challenging you to do the same. Grateful you are here, Wade PS - I also do this with big groups (of adults!). Let’s talk about how to make that happen. Get in touch with me here |
Visual Notes, Quiet Wisdom, and the Power of Being Present—In Your Inbox Every Week
We were pulling together some tax stuff and doing Q1 planning recently. Very corporate, I know. While reviewing the numbers, something jumped out at me: Over 75% of last year's revenue came from returning clients. In a creative services industry where most engagements often are one-off projects, that number stood out to me. Coming back for visual work month after month and year after year isn’t typically where businesses see themselves early on. But as it turns out, it's really about what...
Every morning when I’m not in a workshop, I draw a quote, illustrated on a post-it note. Then, I take a picture of it and text it to about 250 people. One-by-one. One phone number after another until I get through my list. This isn’t through a bulk SMS service, and it’s definitely not automated. Just going into my contacts and hitting send. Takes about an hour to draw and edit the image. Another 20-30 minutes to send them all out. Going on 5 years now. Megan’s oft-asked question is some...
On video calls, I’m always looking down. Is it because I’m distracted? Checking my phone?! Gasp… bored?!?! Nope, nope, and definitely nope, uh-uh, no way. You see the top of my head on a call because I’m leaning down and drawing what you’re saying in real time. There’s a small notebook right in front of me, like always. Pen is in hand. While we talk, I’m making visual notes of the conversation. Maybe what you need, or think you need. What clearly matters to you. The problems you or your team...