Sketching Sacrament

There are moments in every artist’s early practice when the work becomes less about skill and more about noticing. This post is one of mine. I’m sharing it here, with its original date preserved, because it marks a point in my creative evolution—one where research, curiosity, and the act of drawing shifted the way I approached form and meaning.

Back in 2017, I wanted to loosen my grip on being self-directed and let something outside myself guide the process. I was looking for a symbol that carried weight—something with structure, history, and enough complexity to challenge the way I usually began a piece. That’s how I found myself studying religious iconography, specifically the Eastern Orthodox cross, also known as the Suppedaneum Cross.

I was familiar with the Christian cross as a universal symbol, but I didn’t understand its nuances. So I read. I researched. And the more I learned, the more the drawing began to take shape. The three bars of the Orthodox cross served as the anchor for the composition: the upper bar for the inscription, the central bar for the body, and the angled lower bar referencing the footrest.

I started with a simple outline. Then it asked for structure.
A central line.
A clearer axis.
Points of connection are marked and emphasized.

Once the form was established, I instinctively added references to the environment surrounding the original event—rock, dirt, wind, and topographical contours. Even then, I was thinking in layers: symbol, context, place.

Looking back, I didn’t realize at the time how much this small sketch was teaching me. It wasn’t about religious narrative. It was about learning to let external research guide internal intuition. It was about honoring the weight of a symbol while still allowing myself to respond to it visually. It was about understanding form through history and meaning through structure.

I didn’t know whether I would take the sketch further—enlarge it, ink it, or explore a series. What mattered then was simply that I started. And what matters now is that I recognize this drawing as part of the lineage of my practice: an early moment where discipline, curiosity, and symbolism converged in a way that continues to shape how I work today.

Sometimes the smallest sketches leave the longest echoes.