Sketchbook Stories
Hola muchachas. Tis I, former working stiff and recent retiree here to present a few minor scenes from the sketchbook collection. I recently gathered together all of my in-process sketchbooks (50-54)and decided that the whole entire reason I haven’t been as active in my life of sketchbookery as I’d like is due to the books themselves lying unlabeled and unnumbered. In other words, abandoned! Thusly I set about working in the pre-dawn hours over the course of several days. Dark mornings when the birds are beginning to call back and forth = prime time for spell casting and activities of this sort. Witchcraft! Wishcraft! Artcraft! Let the magic begin.
First, I had to locate an old sketchbook reference page where I had catalogued the last set of books I had properly named & numbered. All of the 40’s are finished except for one – old handmade No. 46 that I started in 2021. Who gives a flying %$# when you start, as long as you finish?
A couple of pages from Forty-Six are shown above. For comparison’s sake, No. 53 is finished and No. 52 is a big black-papered book that I only have 2 pages completed. Fifty-Two hid itself away in the closet preventing me from noticing that I even had a sketchbook with thick black pages. But yes, I did. And now I shall turn the pages forthwith and begin churning out one masterpiece after another. Probably seascapes since they look so enticing on the dark pages. During sorting and sifting I came across a previous black sketchbook of the exact same variety and remembered how gouache looks on black paper (bottle pages above).
Could the mere act of cataloguing push me towards revitalizing my once flourishing sketchbook practice? A. I’m sure of it! B. Who knows? I’ll caution you against giving me a pep talk either way. I’m highly resistant to those and find them irritating. I’m just sharing my cautiously optimistic sketchbook resurgence. The scavenger hunt to find the catalogue page inspired me and now my art brain is like grand central with trains pulling in every second. Stay tuned to see what happens when the trains start pulling out again. Where will they go? I have no idea, but when I finish typing this post I’m going to paint more scenes from around the house in little oval frames, or maybe some more vintage family photos I snapped on a recent visit with my brother. Or maybe the vintage ceramic birds I found on Church Hill in Richmond.
Virginia
I skipped off to Virginia last week to visit my brother. The air traffic controllers safely guided all 4 planes in which I was a passenger in for a landing. Sister is coming out to LA in a couple of weeks. One of the perks of not being a working stiff anymore: spending more time with siblings who are scattered across the country.
Not pictured: the 3×5 Talens Art Creation sketchbook I took with me to Virginia. (love that thing!) I drew daily with just pens & markers and enjoyed it so much.
On My Bookshelf
I’ve fallen madly in love with Elizabeth Taylor the English writer (1912-1975). Unless you like writerly plotless books that go nowhere, you’ll hate these. But if you enjoy subtlety and quiet descriptions of being human they may appeal. Yes, my vintage reading obsession continues. Waiting in the wings is Madame Bovary. Can’t wait!
This week I’ll head back to the Cuban bakery for a cafe con leche and another slice of guava cheese pie. The place was always so busy during working life, but now I can go on weekdays in late morning (instead of picking up the little hellions from recess when the bell rings) The cafe is sleepy and the atmosphere inside sprinkled with gold dust. I can read and observe the adorable staff all while taking enormous bites of pastry and guzzling milky coffee.
Here is the pool where we watch for herons, woodpeckers, geese, and parrots, chat about our knees, and climb into the jacuzzi afterwards for some additional water therapy. Everyone is pleasant and the steam rising off the water on chilly mornings divine.
Before I hit the Cuban bakery each week, I like to walk in my old neighborhood where I lived in the 90’s
I’m thinking these porches would look fantastic loosely translated in gouache between the pages of my sketchbooks.
Our country may be falling apart and turning into a real life SNL skit, but thank goodness for good books, bees carrying pollen baskets, strong coffee, in-person visits with friends and a glorious end to working life.
I’ll just be here doing nothing and everything. Send me a postcard in the comments and let me know how you’re faring in these wonderful terrible times. Someone in the city of angels wants to know.
Discover more from Dispatch from LA
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
Love those beach paintings. You have inspired me to get my journals finished up and makes we wish I had numbered them. Oh yes please do sketches of the porches. Love them. I love how you have slipped into your new chapter…oh and that pool!!! XO. SV
Another wonderful post! I’m so happy that you keep posting. Your content is a balm for the soul in these insane times. I also find pep talks annoying (unless I specifically ask for one). When they’re unsolicited, they always feel vaguely condescending. I think people mean well, but I remain irritated.
Yes these are very trying times but I will not give in to them. Have spent months in books and being in nature, I think nature is the cure-all for me. I watch very limited news and am very “choosy” as to what I watch.Im contemplating doing another Remains of the day journal as I have a lot swirling around in my head. Still doing my slow stitching and watercolors between naps. I never used to be able to nap but lately find them refreshing. Your brothers job has to be one of the hardest. I salute him. As for you I await misses from you with a smile on my face. I treasure your posts. Keep them coming Miss Mary Ann.
Thank you. These wonderful, terrible times indeed. Exactly the words I need. Freed from need and the need to be employed is wonderful and I’m living my best life, restoring an orchard, renovating a house, returned to the island of my birth – I am a happy woman. I am questioning my trust in our democracy and have reverted to the cross-my-fingers hope and belief in the goodnes of humanity. I am good and those around me are good. So I intend that our innate goodness will prevail.
I send you the gift of a poem. A House Called Tomorrow – Alberto Rios
Alberto Ríos
1952 –
You are not fifteen, or twelve, or seventeen—
You are a hundred wild centuries
And fifteen, bringing with you
In every breath and in every step
Everyone who has come before you,
All the yous that you have been,
The mothers of your mother,
The fathers of your father.
If someone in your family tree was trouble,
A hundred were not:
The bad do not win—not finally,
No matter how loud they are.
We simply would not be here
If that were so.
You are made, fundamentally, from the good.
With this knowledge, you never march alone.
You are the breaking news of the century.
You are the good who has come forward
Through it all, even if so many days
Feel otherwise. But think:
When you as a child learned to speak,
It’s not that you didn’t know words—
It’s that, from the centuries, you knew so many,
And it’s hard to choose the words that will be your own.
From those centuries we human beings bring with us
The simple solutions and songs,
The river bridges and star charts and song harmonies
All in service to a simple idea:
That we can make a house called tomorrow.
What we bring, finally, into the new day, every day,
Is ourselves. And that’s all we need
To start. That’s everything we require to keep going.
Look back only for as long as you must,
Then go forward into the history you will make.
Be good, then better. Write books. Cure disease.
Make us proud. Make yourself proud.
And those who came before you? When you hear thunder,
Hear it as their applause.
A blessing on your house. Lori
Current working stiff checking in from the dumpster-fire that is Texas, overloaded with the worst politicians ever assembled. I’ve been actively looking for a new job with higher pay and less stress but only getting “thank you, no thank yous” to my applications. As a fat female over fifty applying to job postings that I’m over-qualified for… the “no thank yous” feel very personal and the struggle is very real.
On a brighter note, I’m so looking forward to seeing the Jenny Saville exhibition in person at The Modern museum in Fort Worth. Years ago while I was immersed in Life Drawing classes one of my teachers showed us her work as an inspirational starting point and i was blown away. If you’re unfamiliar with her work — “Jenny Saville is a contemporary English painter known for her large-scale, often monumental, oil paintings of nude and often distorted female forms. As one of the prominent Young British Artists (YBAs) of the 1990s, she challenged traditional art history’s idealized representation of the female body with her raw, visceral, and unidealized depictions of flesh.”
Because of time restraints and overall state of tiredness, I’ve been painting on my iPad with procreate. It’s nice to be able to pull out my ipad and sit on the couch while watching tv.
Part two!
Speaking of SNL have you seen the documentary of John Candy, I like Me. Tom Hanks son did it. Amazon Prime.
Can’t wait to bite into your book recommendations !
Life is still wonderful, mostly
Hi there fellow retiree! I knew you’d be good at this retirement business. I go through periods of being so grateful to whoever decided we get too old to work and invented this gig. Isn’t it the greatest? Keep us posted on your activities and have fun.
Hey there and yo ho ho from Minnesota. I had to laugh when you mentioned abandoned journals. I still have half filled journals made from Full Tilt Booogie and RODs that have been long neglected. I see them sitting so nicely on their shelf in my art room in the basement and pass by them daily when I enter the laundry room. One day I say, as I feel them looking at me asking “but when’ , the kicker is this, I still love making journals even if I have plenty, but I always defer to what my heart wants to do. Slow stitching is how I calm the nerves from the mayhem out there. No pep talks here. Do whatever you want! I have to thank you for last entry’s book list. I read A Fortnight in September and loved it. I didn’t want it to end. It was so relaxing and offered a respite from the stressful times on our side of the pond. The author’s writing style suited me and I read it in a few days time. Unputdownable! Nothing better than a delightful page turner. Continue to enjoy and adapt to your retirement freedom and do your best to rebel against that crazy man behind the gold curtains occupying OUR White House.