On ravens, graphite and quietude

Like the Earth’s seasons, creativity and art have a rhythm of their own. Some pieces emerge with ease, arriving conceptualized and complete before I even realize it, while others require patience, discipline, and time.

This Raven was the latter.

He required more of me. I had to slow down, really slow down, as each feather was built with care, his weathered beak rendered with attentiveness, and his gaze forged in devotion. There was no way to circumvent the process. I had to remain comfortable with his slow, silent unveiling through hand-placed lines and values.

And I noticed something shifted while I worked, the studio became quieter. Or maybe I did.

Life itself has been overwhelming lately, and I’ve found myself drawn to quietness.

This urge to escape the chaos is being directly reflected in my recent drawings. I have pulled back in my work. Less flourish, less overt symbolism, and more presence. Graphite has helped me turn my wish for quiet into something real. It also takes me back to a time when life felt simpler, before the noise and spectacle became so constant. Graphite is a medium that naturally conveys silence, dignity, and restraint.

Ravens feel aligned with this shift. They live their lives with no plan or purpose beyond their own needs. They do not need to perform for anyone; they simply witness and observe us as we move through our busy, chaotic routines.

Observant, sovereign, and unbothered by noise.

Lately, I’ve been reflecting on how to live in that way, noticing what’s around me without letting it weigh me down, speaking less and listening more, and trying to move through the world with a little more quiet simplicity.​

Maybe this is something you have felt lately, too, this desire for stillness. For work that doesn’t shout and is purely there for presence.

Thank you for being here with my work, especially during these slower seasons.

Warmly, Brianna