Yesterday was the first warm day of the year (it's so late!!) and boy was it ever. I had to dig around for a pair of presentable short pants and quickly discovered that my sandals are significantly less comfortable than I thought they were. Seriously, I have callouses now and plan to never wear them again.
I knew that when the weather warmed up, I wanted to do a sketchbook-to-painting series in which I wander around town and sketch things, the way a tourist would photograph everything. In fact, the photo I used to practice with these Posca pens, I took with a toy camera when I was taking a walk around the neighbourhood one day after pastry class.
I knew that when the weather warmed up, I wanted to do a sketchbook-to-painting series in which I wander around town and sketch things, the way a tourist would photograph everything. In fact, the photo I used to practice with these Posca pens, I took with a toy camera when I was taking a walk around the neighbourhood one day after pastry class.
(The camera is a plastic Vivitar imitation that lets in less light and exaggerates colours. The vignette is intense!)
I suppose there are plenty of things to notice around a town you spend your whole life in, and it kind of goes with the theme of how much of our childhood wonder is lost. How many things become mundane and unappreciated on our way to work every morning?
So yesterday, it was 20C (right after a rainy day of 12C) and it was uncomfortably warm and humid as hell. So I took a bus down to the beach to give my sketch wandering a little practice. Well, it wasn't great! I forgot to bring a paintbrush, and even then all I did was do a quick sketch of the pier. It was nice to sit in relative silence for a bit (very peaceful), but no real art was done. Was it the bright sun? Was it the slippery metal bench I was sitting on? Was it the constant flow of strangers passing behind me? Was it the open expanse of the ocean with not much in it?
I don't know. But there is a big difference between wandering alone with a camera, and sitting alone in one spot with a sketchbook. Going to the beach alone is not very much fun.
I suppose there are plenty of things to notice around a town you spend your whole life in, and it kind of goes with the theme of how much of our childhood wonder is lost. How many things become mundane and unappreciated on our way to work every morning?
So yesterday, it was 20C (right after a rainy day of 12C) and it was uncomfortably warm and humid as hell. So I took a bus down to the beach to give my sketch wandering a little practice. Well, it wasn't great! I forgot to bring a paintbrush, and even then all I did was do a quick sketch of the pier. It was nice to sit in relative silence for a bit (very peaceful), but no real art was done. Was it the bright sun? Was it the slippery metal bench I was sitting on? Was it the constant flow of strangers passing behind me? Was it the open expanse of the ocean with not much in it?
I don't know. But there is a big difference between wandering alone with a camera, and sitting alone in one spot with a sketchbook. Going to the beach alone is not very much fun.
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