This Houston project features drawings from 12,000 ‘artists’

One of Houston’s more impressive ongoing art projects, now in its 11th year, currently lives inside a hand-built bookshelf full of 65 small sketchbooks. Between them are more than 14,300 works of original art by an estimated 12,000 to 13,000 individuals. Danny Trejo has doodled in it. So has Henry Winkler. Daniel Johnston, too, shortly before his passing in 2019. Some of the drawings and musings contained within are elaborate works by formally trained visual artists. Others are squiggles by people initially hesitant to pick up a pencil.

This is Drawbook, a labor of love “celebrating creation and making art exist” by local artist, musician and performer Sean Penalber. As the title implies, Drawbook involves Penalber asking the people they meet to simply draw what they’d like inside a sketchbook they keep on them at all times. Anyone can participate, and “as long as the pencil touches the page,” what they choose to share gets honored as a necessary artistic contribution.

Penalber started the project on a whim on April 25, 2012. While working as an engineer, they purchased a sketchbook for themself as a birthday gift before taking part in a Skessions event at the now-shuttered Montrose dive Next Door Bar. These get-togethers had a “drink and draw” set up, where artists could casually build their drawing skills with a live model while enjoying their favorite adult beverages. Even though Penalber didn’t have much in the way of visual art education, having studied creative writing and theatre in college, they still sought a memorable, companionable evening. 

“I’m sitting there looking at this book, and I was like, ‘I don’t want to waste this,’” they said. “And so I turned to the person next to me—I don’t remember who it was—and was like, ‘Hey, will you draw in this for me? It’s my birthday.’ And they were like, ‘Oh my gosh, yeah!’ And so they drew in it, and then they ended up passing it around.”

Touched by the gesture, Penalber—who now works as a roofing marketer to fund their creative endeavors—felt inspired to replicate the experience as often as possible. They’d scour Facebook to find as many free events as they could attend, bringing along their most recent sketchbook, striking up conversations with people, and asking them to contribute to Drawbook. When attending conventions, they’d request a doodle from the celebrity guests. Sometimes they’d hang out after shows and wait for the bands to leave the venue. 

“[The sketchbooks] fit right in my back pocket, so I literally bring [one] with me everywhere. [They have] not left my side in 11 years, which means I’ve also carried a pen and a pencil for the last 11 years,” Penalber said. 

They’ve even taken the sketchbooks on international vacations. Book 10’s cover is taped on because Penalber slipped and fell while on a cruise, tearing it off. They say this only “adds to it,” and makes the overarching Drawbook story even more unique.

Even if potential contributors balk at first, they usually warm up with some encouragement that anything they want to make holds value as an integral aspect of the project. 

Penalber also dreams of expanding Drawbook past their bookshelves. They started digitally distributing Drawbook until they experienced a major setback. Penalbar has photographed every image in their collection and once maintained an online directory where visitors could browse all the sketchbooks and search for the included artists by name. Unfortunately, they hired some web developers whose empty promises led to much of the project getting wiped off the internet. It will be a while before Penalber can recreate the full online archive again, but they remain optimistic.

While Penalbar works on piecing back together the interactive, online aspect of the Drawbook project, they dream of different ways to bring all the involved artwork to people in person. One idea they’ve floated involves showcasing one page a day under glass to prevent deterioration from overhandling, in much the same way Trinity College Dublin displays the Book of Kells. Another takes advantage of the digital images already available.

“If I could afford it, I would love to take all the drawings and edit them onto a giant display that you could put on walls. You could walk around this room with all the art,” Penalber said. “Since they’re all digitized, you can have them on iPads or other digital surfaces, rotating through the drawings. Have an overwhelming amount of art almost everywhere, around the entire room.”

Should such a monetized undertaking come to pass, Penalber wants anyone who ever put pencil to paper for Drawbook to claim royalties. At a time with many touting the democratization of art are simultaneously stealing and denying profits from established artists, they’re actively thinking of tangible solutions to ensure that any and all of the five-figure participants can financially benefit in some way. Even if the results come in the form of fractions of a penny, Penalber still wants to ensure a fair split for the labor involved in creation. It’s the purest form of artistic democratization there is, in some ways.

“When you’re drawing in this book, you’re being celebrated. You’re being remembered. You’re kind of being immortalized in a way,” Penalbar said. “You’re putting a part of what I would say your soul and your influence into this collective creation of community.”