Morning Coffee

The past week has been really tiring. Preparing for, and delivering the Art of Resilience took quite a bit out of me, and in addition, work’s been tough this week. We’ve been analysing the fallout of an unexpected, and pretty toxic resignation from a partnership I work with. More of that another time on my other blog.

I arrived at the end of the week feeling drained, yet needing to make art for the free art drop. Inspiration had I none. In conversation with one of my colleagues, I said I needed more coffee, and Jenny suggested that maybe, the coffee pot should be my subject this week.


I took a few minutes to look at the pot in situ, before bringing it to my desk, and drawing it.


I was concentrating on my observation skills – I took my time over the drawing. On reflection – it’s a bit tight. I was trying too hard to capture the detail of the pot, and you can see this in some of the lines – they lack confidence and directness in places. I’ve also drawn the pot taller and narrower than it is. This observation stuff is hard work!


I added some silver leaf to give the effect of age, and added in some fineliner to make one or two elements stand out a little more (this photo was taken before the fineliner was applied. This art has since been hidden and found as part of the We Are All Artists free art project.

It’s not my usual style of work – but I like it, I might make another to hang in our kitchen!


Author: Doug Shaw

Artist and Consultant. Embracing uncertainty, sketching myself into existence. Helping people do things differently, through an artistic lens.

One thought on “Morning Coffee”

  1. Morning Coffee

    So it simmers gently on the hob, under lit by bluish flame;
    And I, not yet expectant, standing idly by.
    For a while, all things stand still, the same
    Until, as if reluctant first to try
    The coffee bubbles up, then spurts
    until something like a lava’s syphoned up.
    I think that here’s emollient enough for all that hurts,
    Then pour; consider pot and room and brimming cup
    and how, in closing eyes and sipping there
    I’m no longer quite alone, nor quickened by a fear.
    We take a step; in stepping, loosen our despair:
    Feel one, from far, again come near.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

%d bloggers like this: