watercolor & ink drawing from mass moca

Vhåt iS a life?

I once had an encounter with Albert Maysles, the cinematographer (“Grey Gardens,” “Gimme Shelter”) when he was filming In Transit about train travel. It was deep winter & I was on the Empire Builder heading home to Oregon. We spent a pleasant hour talking in the lounge car as I was drawing in my sketchbook. I remember showing him my drawing (camera rolling, and no, I did not make it into the movie) and he asked me, “Are you a professional artist?”

After considering I said, “Nope. I’m an un-professional artist.”

“Ahh,” he replied. “The best kind.”

Those are the words I use when describing what I do: I am an unprofessional artist who likes to make things.

Christi Payne in front of a train

A book compositor by trade (design & production), and 40 years a calligrapher – these are the foundations I bring to the page. When I'm not working or drawing, it's hand crafts I turn to – baskets, pinch pot ceramics, pebble mandalas, bookmarks, textiles . . . 

And I’m a writer. My son died when he was only 4; I’ve been writing our story ever since. My Skin Is the River, A Mother’s Book of Grief is a memoir of love and loss, yes, but also of survival against the odds, and especially the beauty and necessity of grief that somehow, paradoxically, leads us back into a life worth living.

Watercolor drawing of a window & peace banner

It was during those years – between when I lost Alex and now – that I started drawing.

I always wanted to draw, but I didn’t believe I could, until I changed that belief into: I want to, and I will. From there followed classes and lots of practice. Without really understanding how or why, I now see that drawing has been a big part of my survival. 

I began a travelling sketchbook in 2008, and it’s become a constant companion. It travels with  me, everywhere. I can pull it out at a moment’s notice, draw quickly, tuck it back inside my purse. While every page does not always satisfy, that’s the gift of a sketchbook. It is not about product; it’s all about practice and play and being present to the 10,000 things in front of me to draw. 

Hand drawn red & black compass rose

So Vhat is a life WOrth  living? 

My definition, distilled over the past 30+ years, is letting go of, well, a heckuva lot of whatever is holding us back. And then, with luck, finding our voice – & using it to speak or draw or sing or dance our truth.

Cover of the travelling sketchbook
Custom calligraphy and drawing
Watercolor drawing of a town common and written paragraphs