I’ve been sitting on this for weeks, rearranging the words like I rearrange my pencils and brushes — which is to say, constantly and with no real improvement.
So here it is, plainly: I’ve opened a Patreon. And I’d love you to come with me. Of course I will also continue to update my blog, but on the Patreon page we can have real interaction.
Here’s the thing about what you usually see
You see the finished page. The one where the wash dried just right, the wonky window somehow works, and the whole thing looks like I knew what I was doing the entire time. And in my Skillshare classes you see a polished class, but we can’t have a lot of interaction except for the class projects. And on the Skillshare platform, even after having been there for almost 6 years, I stay quite invisible and I have to say that’s quite frustrating…
Also: a lot of you told me they’d like to take my classes elsewhere than on Skillshare.
What you don’t see elsewhere: the four attempts before it. The paper I bullied into pilling. The moment I added one more layer when every sensible voice in my head said stop, Barbara, stop. The supply I bought at 11pm because a stranger on the internet said it was life-changing (reader: it was fine).
That part — the messy, uncertain, genuinely fun part — is the part I actually want to share. It just never fit anywhere. Blog posts want conclusions. Instagram wants polish. My sketchbooks want to be left alone in a drawer looking pretty.
So I built a room for it.
What’s waiting for you inside
Online classes. I started with the thumbnail class because someone asked. It’s there from start to finish, no drip-feed, no homework police. Work through it in a weekend or a season. You can upload your work in discussions on the platform and I can give you feedback. But Patreon isn’t really build to host long classes with a lot of video’s so I’ll have to structure them in another way in the future.
The experiments, unedited. I will post video’s about experiments with new paint, new paper, new technique I read about and immediately overcommitted to. You’ll see whether it works while I’m finding out. Sometimes it goes gloriously wrong. Those are the good ones.
Behind the scenes of everything else. The workshops, the blog posts, the pages that never make it out — you’ll see them here first, in their weird half-finished state.
A place to actually talk. Show me your wonky windows. Ask me why your sky went muddy. Tell me which palette to buy so we can be irresponsible together. Patreon seems to have a nice discussion space.
Who this is for
You own at least five sketchbooks you haven’t started because they’re too pretty.
You have opinions about paper texture and no one in your life to share them with.
You’ve thought “I’m not really an artist” at least once this month, and I’d very much like to argue with you about that.
You want to draw badly and love it anyway. Which, for the record, is the entire skill. Everything else is just practice.
you want to play and experiment ?
And the honest bit
Patreon is what lets me keep making this. Filming lessons, testing supplies, experimenting… — it all takes time I have to protect somehow. Your support is what protects it.
But I don’t want you to join out of duty. I want you to join because you’re curious what happens when I open the new sketchbook. Because you want the class. Because it sounds fun.
If that’s you, come in — the door’s open and the kettle’s on:
And if now isn’t the moment, that’s completely fine. You’re still welcome here for free, still get the blog, and I still hope you go draw something wonky today.
Bring a snack. My bag always has chocolate in it, and I’m told that’s the most professional thing about my practice.
— Barbara
