I don't know how to draw - how can I "play" per the 50% rule?
Anyone can play - but that doesn't mean it's going to be fun, or gratifying, or make you feel good about yourself. More than likely it'll require you to face the reality that you don't know what things look like, that your memory isn't very effective, and that everything you try to draw falls far short of what how you'd like for it to turn out. It can be extremely frustrating, and it is for most students at first - but facing that frustration is entirely what we're asking you to do, nothing more.
Students ask this question for a number of reasons, but the main ones are that:
-
Either the student at some level still thinks that they need to be at some arbitrary level of skill, or have some arbitrary quality of a result, in order for them to draw without feeling shame, embarrassment, or just the sense that they've wasted their time, or
-
They associate "play" with an implication that it must be a fun, positive experience, and that if it is not, they must be doing it wrong
What we ask students to do with the 50% rule is not fun. It's not pleasant. At least, not initially, because most students have come to Drawabox specifically to escape from what they perceive as their inadequacies. But the first thing, the most important thing, for a student to do is to come to terms with the fact that what they perceive as an inadequacy is simply a fact of life, of being, of who they are. That they are not shameful because they don't have a skill they've never practiced - something that applies also to those who've spent years trying to learn to draw (I did this myself for a decade), because drawing is not a singular skill, but a vast collection of different skills, many of which can be important to our goals, but in a way that is never properly conveyed to us and thus never meaningfully developed.
A lot of students develop the impression that the 50% rule is a nice-to-have, a moment of rare compassion from the box demon for those weaker ones who can't simply sit and grind away at their exercises day in, day out. But that is about as far from the truth as you can get, and moreover, it's a lie they tell themselves because the idea of drawing as play genuinely frightens them. They want to stay in the warm, comforting embrace of exercises that promise them that their time won't be wasted, that even if it turns out badly, it's working towards something concrete and tangible.
But it's not. It is a fundamental component in the tug-of-war that is learning. The exercises we perform throughout this course involve being hyper-intentional at every turn, ensuring that nothing you do is the result of a reflexive action or a thoughtless choice. Everything, insofar as we can make it so, should be the result of a conscious choice. It's slow, it's time consuming, but it's necessary to ensure that the auto-pilot we are trying to train (the thing that decides how we draw when we aren't making those hyper-intentional choices) is trained reliably, so that it can perform correctly when we need it to.
The trouble with that is that the very process involved causes us to erode the trust we have in the auto-pilot. After all, if you spend weeks and months telling yourself that the auto-pilot is not to be trusted, so how exactly would you expect yourself to suddenly start trusting it when it comes time to finally draw your own stuff? It's not a switch you can flip - you have to maintain that balance the whole way through.
And so, while there are many reasons we push the 50% rule, one of the biggest is that it pushes back against this erosion of trust, and ensures that as your skills do develop, that they can have a direct impact on your own drawings. That when you come out the other side, you won't find yourself needlessly bogging your brain down trying to plan out every little mark, and will actually be able to focus on the creative decisions of design, composition, and narrative - the things that make our drawings interesting - and will be able to rely on your autopilot to take care of the rest.