sketchbook rambles. happening right here in
i’ve been scribbling away. most i’ve posted on IG, but some not.
occasionally i stop to paint something, but really i just want to draw with my thick-lined marker.
look! i inadvertently drew a bed in the road with a long roll pillow across the top. oh me, oh my, and my eternal quest to draw street scenes featuring cars that don’t have faces or look like beds. how could a rectangular prism be this confounding?
i am nothing, if not persistent.
i’m madly in love with my pitt big brush marker. drawing with it and coloring in shadows brings me untold moments of joy.
it’s me, mary ann. i’m watching you.
especially you, garden trees who make canopies of shade dark & dappled that change constantly throughout the day. oh what pleasure you bring!
and to you divine deodar with your long winged branches, i’ve been staring at you every evening on this porch through my binoculars. i see how your furry needle leaves turn blue and gold when the sun starts slanting in the west. and there are 2 hawks that scream and cry throughout the day and keep landing in your uppermost branches. i wonder if they’re building a nest.
can you tell me please?
i moved out of my working sketchbook and into the big handbound sketchbook where i make a more concerted effort to make a complete page versus just scribbly wibbly.
i started this book back in august of 2018 and i’m still in the first signature.
i’m reveling in my summer freedom of so many days spread before me. i’m glad i decided to stay home and just travel in california this year. i wanted and needed this time to dive back into my daily sketchbook practice. it’s too easy to feel energetically drained during the school year.
july 5, 1852
i have been at home all day writing. tonight went on the roof awhile. it’s a beautiful sight the city presents. in every direction one incessant sparkle of fireballs, rockets, roman candles, and stars of all colors shooting thick into the air and disappearing for miles around, with now and then a glare of colored light coming out in some neighborhood where fireworks on a large scale are going off. a foreigner would put it in his book of travels as one of the marvels of new york, and compare it to a swarm of tropical fireflies gleaming in and out through a brazilian forest.
-george templeton strong
i started this post in the living room, but now i’m out on the porch, with my mountain of books, river of la croix coconut water, writing journal, sketchbooks, paint, water, cats, and binoculars.
i hope you crazy kids are busy whiling away your days doing exactly what pleases you.