Learning to Draw a Labyrinth

According to Redbook (“Your 18 Stress Messes – Solved!”), a simple way to reduce stress and anxiety while stuck at the workplace is to find an online labyrinth and to trace it with your finger. Redbook even provides a link to the Labyrinth Society. But while the Labyrinth Society is chock-full of labyrinth information, they don’t have traceable labyrinths. They do provide links to other labyrinth sites, many of which display electronic labyrinth art, j-pegs that are too small to trace with your finger, or photos of landscape labyrinths, again difficult to trace. Unfortunately, none of the links connect to that 1986 art-flick Labyrinth starring David Bowie as the Goblin King, which is my primary association with the word “labyrinth”. To be honest, I never saw the movie, but the trailers are inked onto my memory (remember Bowie standing upside down on the underside of the labyrinth?), and I’m surprised the Society missed the opportunity to link to a little retro-alternative-cool.

I did find a link through the South Mountain Community College that provided interactive step-by-step instructions on how to build (draw) a classical seven circuit labyrinth. After about 30 minutes of e-hooky from work, learning about labyrinths and learning how to draw one, I found myself relaxing. And I was sold.

And hence, my first labyrinth (okay, so I was using an archaic paint program, and it looks like a five-year old drew this, but I had to draw it free hand (or free mouse) to simulate just how calming it is to draw one of these things. It’s rhythmic and meditative, which would have been lost if I used fancy drawing tools). After drawing a few more, I thought, “Hey, I’ve got this. I know the basic precepts of labyrinth construction,” and I decided to create labyrinths of my own design. I failed miserably. Some had dead ends. Some had barriers in the path. Some were mazes with dead ends and barriers. And so learning how to draw one labyrinth afforded me no labyrinth constructions skills. I thought I could infer the basic components of labyrinth design, but I was mistaken. It isn’t that easy, and that makes me nervous that my new-found form of artistic expression may be short-lived. I hope learning to draw a labyrinth isn’t like learning how to rock climb. After I had exhausted my repertoire of easy tricks and then failed at more challenging endeavors, I grew bored and, well, gave it up. I just didn’t care enough.

A relationship with art takes work and discipline, but work and discipline that are borne of passion. I don’t know if I have or will ever develop a passion for labyrinths. I think they’re cool and I think it would be cool in a geeked-out sort of way to be passionate about them. But by their natures, passions demand a lot of attention, if not a completely monogamous relationship. My passion for poetry begrudgingly leaves room for my passion for candy (or visa versa). Is there room for a passion for labyrinths? Probably not. But my life is enriched by learning about them, just as my life is enriched by learning about (and enjoying) any artistic genre that isn’t poetry (with the exception of that advanty-gardy improv jazz thing that consists of some screeching discordant horns and one lone note played on a synthesizer). So I may not pursue labyrinth learning much further. And that’s okay. I’ll still trace a labyrinth path when I’m stressed out at work. Because Redbook was right. It soothes me. It really does.

*Know the difference between a maze and a labyrinth? A maze has multiple

false options and openings deviating from the one path leading from point (A)

to point (B). A labyrinth is a single path that is guided by its walls, and the

beginning is the end; in other words, once you find yourself all the way in,

you are on your way out.

Download the labyrinth graphic Labyrinth.png.