Drawing with Michelle

What if drawing wasn’t about learning to perform, but about learning to see and connect?

I never expected drawing to change the way I see the world. But it did. I used to draw realistically — carefully, precisely, with focus on the outcome. But when I discovered the work of Frederick Franck, something shifted. His book Zen Seeing, Zen Drawing opened a door to a completely different experience: drawing as a form of meditation, as a way of being present.

Inspired by his beautiful work, my own way of drawing slowly evolved into something more personal, more feminine, and more intuitive. It comes from softness, from wonder, and from allowing vulnerability to guide the process. Over time, it has brought me into deeper connection with the natural world — and with myself.

It’s not about mastering your pencil lines. It’s about letting the pencil line lead you. It’s a practice of connecting — to what you see, what you feel, and who you are, without judgment. And although it began with Zen, it has grown into its own path — a way of seeing, sensing, and expressing that is open and deeply alive.

Everyone can draw: the drawing reflex

There’s a false belief that only talented people can draw. One of the foundations of my way of drawing is what Franck referred to as the eye-heart-hand reflex. I simply call it the drawing reflex — the natural ability of your hand to follow your eye, without effort.

When you reconnect with this reflex, something beautiful happens: you begin to draw without thinking. You draw what you see, not what you think you see. Your attention becomes soft but steady. And your line begins to flow.

I’ve developed a few very simple exercises to help people rediscover this reflex — grounding, drawing spirals, contour lines, and raising self-awareness through the movement. These little practices help open the door. And the good news is: we all have this reflex in our body. It doesn’t require any drawing talent or technical skill. It’s about presence, attention, and the quiet joy of seeing with your heart and connecting to the present moment.

Drawing as inner reflection

What I love most about drawing this way is that it shows me where I am — not just physically, but emotionally. Is my line restless? Am I rushing? Am I trying too hard? Or am I open, calm, receptive? The drawing becomes a kind of mirror. This is what makes drawing feel so alive to me. It helps me become aware. And in that awareness, there’s already a shift happening — from tension to openness, from control to curiosity.

From pencil drawing to watercolor

As my sketchbooks began to fill with simple, intuitive line drawings, I started to wonder: what would happen if I added color? I went up to my attic and found an old watercolor set I hadn’t used in years. I brought it downstairs and began to experiment. I didn’t have a plan — I simply let the colors move across the paper, following the lines I had drawn.

It quickly became clear that watercolor added something entirely new — not just to the image, but to the experience. The water had a rhythm of its own. It didn’t want to be controlled. It flowed, blended, and created unexpected effects. Just like with drawing, I had to let go of the outcome.

This was the beginning of my own way of working with watercolor — a natural extension of how I draw. It became the foundation of almost all my (commercial) artwork and illustrations.