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‘You can observe a lot by just watching.’ Yogi Berra.

Stories from my Sketchbook . . . 

I have been really slack with my sketching over the last couple of weeks.  I know.  I seem to be saying that a lot lately, don’t I?  But it’s a constant struggle and I am still not really sure why.

gloomyI did great for a while, sketching (almost) every day.  Even if it wasn’t much of a sketch, at least I was picking up the pen and doodling a bit.  But lately days and days go by without even an attempt.  Sometimes I pick up my sketchbook and flick through it, thinking it will inspire me . . . and sometimes it does, but often it doesn’t.  Oh, I have all sorts of excuses (I’m too tired after work . . . I don’t have enough time today . . . I really need to finish sorting that other thing out first . . .  and that old chestnut—I can’t find anything interesting to draw) but I know they are only excuses.  I have heard (made) them all before.  I am in the drawing doldrums.  Again . . .

But I am trying to see it for what it is and trying not to get down on myself about it.  I reckon I just have to get into a bit of a rhythm again and I will be fine.  And, you know, it’s not all bad. One thing I have come to realise is that since I took up sketching again earlier this year (even if somewhat sporadically) I have definitely become more observant.

blindfoldIt’s not like I wandered about looking down at my feet all the time, because I didn’t.  I still noticed my surroundings—the houses, the water, the river, the birds—but now I find myself really seeing things in a different light—the way the branches of a certain tree hang over right down into the water along by the riverwalk . . . the ‘sticky things’ growing up through the mangroves . . . the ricketty old verandah on the house on the corner.  (Has that always been there?  How have I never noticed that before?)  It’s surprising to me—and, to be honest, a little bit freaky.  It makes me feel like I have been walking around in a bit of a fog for years . . .

So really, all I have to do now is work out a way to transfer those new-found observations onto the pages of my sketchbook . . . on a regular basis . . .  and I’ll be set!  Right?

How hard can that be?

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This is a sketch of one of Maudie’s favourite toys.
I had never really looked at it properly before but when I did I found it was a really interesting mix of materials and textures
—along with, shall we say, some rather ‘exotic’ smells . . .

 
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Posted by on November 1, 2016 in Uncategorized

 

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‘I thought I was smart until I had to figure out how to eat a pomegranate.’ Anon.

Stories from my Sketchbook . . . 

Pomegranates are amongst the healthiest fruits on earth.  They are nutrient rich, can have incredible benefits for your body, and may lower the risk of all sorts of diseases.

So you would have thought that if someone made them so good for us, they might also have thought of a way to make them easier to eat . . .

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Posted by on October 25, 2016 in Uncategorized

 

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‘If this is coffee, please bring me some tea; but if this is tea, please bring me some coffee.’ Abraham Lincoln.

Stories from my Sketchbook  . . . 

coffee-and-tea-clip-artThe most popular drink in the world, bar none, is water.  The second most popular drink in the world, depending on which set of on-line statistics you believe, is either tea or coffee. (I don’t quite understand how red wine is not in the running, but there you go . . . )

Anyway, during the day at least, I am (unapologetically) a tea drinker, and green tea at that.  I drink vats of the stuff.  That doesn’t mean that I don’t like coffee, I do—my special treat when I go to the movies is a large flat white coffee (and a bag of maltesers)—but, to me, coffee is coffee is coffee.  I am, in no way shape or form, a coffee aficionado.  It doesn’t make much difference to me what kind of roast or blend my coffee is.  As long as my coffee is hot, it’s fine.  (I can hear coffee-lovers heads exploding all over the place after that comment . . . )

However, it appears that even my special once-in-a-while coffee treat could now be in jeopardy—apparently there is a coffee crisis looming.  In September 2016 the Australia’s Climate Institute released a report which predicts that by 2050 global warming will have made at least half of the land currently used for coffee production unable to produce quality beans.  And by 2080 hot temperatures could make wild coffee plants completely extinct.

As I am only an occasional imbiber (along with the fact that I will be 91 years old in 2050 and 121 when wild coffee plants eventually become extinct) such a coffee crisis is unlikely to affect me much personally, but I thought I should probably make mention of it . . . just a kind of ‘heads up’ to some of my coffee-addicted friends and colleagues to let them know that their beloved brew is in peril, and they might need to do a little forward thinking—a little pre-planning (start hoarding now folks) if they want to ensure they continue to receive their daily hit of their favourite beverage . . .

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I’ve just had a thought.
If I took my own pretty coffee mug into the cinema with me, no-one would really know what was in it would they?
It could be coffee . .  or tea . . .  or red wine . . . 

 
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Posted by on October 18, 2016 in Uncategorized

 

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‘Laziness is nothing more than the habit of resting before you get tired.’ Jules Renard.

Stories from my Sketchbook . . .

couchpotatoDo you want to know what I did last weekend?  Nothing.  Nada.  Zip.  Zero. Naught.  No.Thing.

Well—when I say nothing, I mean nothing ‘productive’.  I didn’t do any ‘chores’.  I didn’t do anything I ‘should’ have done.  I didn’t do anything I didn’t have to do. And I enjoyed every minute of not doing any of it.

There, I admit it.  I’m a lazy, lazy person.  I know we aren’t really supposed to admit that sort of thing about ourselves, but there it is.

I walk the dogs every day, twice a day, because they need the exercise, it is good for them and because, quite honestly, they make me crazy if I don’t.  Would I bother to go out walking twice a day if it were just me?  I very much doubt it.

I also exercise myself every day—but only because I would be the size of a house if I didn’t.  (How do I know?  Well, I’ve been there folks.)  Do I enjoy exercising every day?  Nope.  I would 100% prefer not to have to do it.  (I do enjoy not being the size of a house any more though, so it’s a means to an end.)

I go to work because I need to pay the rent, and the bills, and feed myself and the dogs.  Would I give up working full-time tomorrow if I could afford to?  Absolutely.  (Don’t worry.  My boss and I have already had this conversation and she knows it isn’t personal.  She also knows I can’t afford to give up working any time soon.)

So, if I had my choice I would be ‘resting before I got tired’ much more often . . . and I’ll bet I’m not the only one out there.  Why don’t you put your feet up and join me?  Go on.  You know you want to . . .

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We’re busy doin’ nothin’
Workin’ the whole day through
Tryin’ to find lots of things not to do
We’re busy goin’ nowhere
Isn’t it just a crime
We’d like to be unhappy, but
We never do have the time

I have to watch the river
To see that it doesn’t stop
And stick around the rosebuds
So they’ll know when to pop
And keep the crickets cheerful
They’re really a solemn bunch
Hustle, bustle
And only an hour for lunch

La-la-la-la-la-la
La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la
La-la-la-la-la-la
La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la
. . . 

 
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Posted by on October 11, 2016 in Uncategorized

 

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‘ ‘Tis healthy to be sick sometimes.’ Henry David Thoreau.

Stories from my Sketchbook . . . 

This was my week.

If Henry David Thoreau were still around I would happily slap him . . .

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Posted by on October 4, 2016 in Uncategorized

 

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‘The secret of your future is hidden in your daily routine.’ Mike Murdock.

Well I am not sure what that quote says about my future . . .

routineI admit I like my routines.  I always have.  And I’m pretty sure the dogs like them too.  We all know where we are meant to be, what we are meant to be doing, and when. We can handle the odd disruption of course, life tends to get in the way sometimes, but generally the girls and I are creatures of habit, and our routines are kind of comforting. Well, they were . . .

I have had a three day-mini-break this week.  Three days off work to get some jobs done at home that needed doing, to do some writing, some sketching, (some shopping—ssssshhhh—don’t tell anyone), and, hopefully, some relaxing before the new school term kicks in.

Sounds great, except that today is Friday already (how did that happen?) and I haven’t done any writing, or sketching . . . (okay I did do a bit of shopping) . . . I still have those jobs to get done . . . the nasty head cold that I have been fighting off for the last week has again kicked in with a vengeance and . . . oh yes . . . the girls and I are currently playing host to a 4 month old (absolutely adorable) Cavoodle pup called ‘Cinder’ . . .

So routine? I don’t think so.  Not this week . . .

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Cinder.

 
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Posted by on September 30, 2016 in Uncategorized

 

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‘When the flower blossoms, the bee will come.’ Srikumar Rao.

Stories from my Sketchbook . . . 

And not only the bee—apparently every other bug, grub, creepy-crawly and eight-legged beastie known to man as well . . .

antsIt’s early in the season yet but it’s already starting to feel like a scene from A Bug’s Life‘ at my house. It started on Saturday when I was cleaning out my pantry (oh joy).  All was going well until I noticed a packet of oatmeal which seemed to be taking itself for a walk towards the back corner of the cupboard.  Looking more closely I realised said packet was being carried aloft by hordes of tiny black ants.  Sigh.  What should have been a fairly easy tidy-up job turned into a major ant-eradication program.

And it didn’t end there.  While out walking the girls I had my first sandfly bite of the season, which means I am now going to have to slather myself in ‘Rid’ from head to toe every time I go out to the letterbox or hang washing on the line for the next six months.  So much fun.

scaredMabel also encountered this year’s first ‘blowy‘ which sent her into complete tailspin.  (Mabel got stung by a bee when she was a tiny puppy and she has never gotten over it.  Her little face blew up to twice it’s normal size and she looked a bit like a freaky cartoon character.  (I didn’t tell her that though, she was traumatised enough as it was.)  Now any time anything buzzes past her she has a bit of a meltdown. Spring and Summer can be very exhausting times for Mabel.)

Add, to that the fact that we have now come into ‘tick season’ which means I will have to be hyper-vigilant with the dogs medication and daily checks and . . . wait for it . . . best of all . . . I am now also anticipating (with barely concealed terror, I might add) the arrival of the first monster spider (and I say first, because I can guarantee there will be others), which is bound to appear in my bedroom any day now.

Ah yes, the joys of Spring.  It’s just as well the flowers are so pretty . . .

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Hibiscus rosa-sinensis

 
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Posted by on September 27, 2016 in Uncategorized

 

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‘Art is too serious to be taken seriously.’ Ad Reinhardt.

Stories from my Sketchbook . . .

I really think I am going to rename these posts ‘Struggles with my Sketchbook‘  . . .

writers-block-cartoonOver the last couple of weeks I have had a very hard time getting anything down on the page.  It isn’t as if I haven’t tried—I have—but I just haven’t been making any headway.  I have spent more time sitting staring at my blank sketchbook pages than I care to admit and then getting cross with myself when I failed to produce anything.  I kept telling myself ‘I want to draw something’ —but obviously not enough to actually draw anything.  Sigh.

doldrumsThis isn’t the first time I have hit the doldrums when it comes to sketching and I daresay it won’t be the last.  (Sketching and I have a bit of a history.  See ‘As my artist’s statement explains. . . )  To this day I still can come up with all sorts of lame excuses why I can’t (shouldn’t, won’t) get any drawing done.  Fortunately, I have learned enough about myself now (and it’s about bloody time) to know I can also find answers to all these excuses too . . . 

There’s nothing to draw (the house is full of things to draw) . . . It’s raining (not inside the house it isn’t) . . . That new ink I ordered hasn’t come yet (so use a biro) . . . There are other things I should be doing instead (there will always other things to be doing instead) . . . 

inner-criticLike I said—lame.  Happily, it’s no longer all that easy to just walk away from it like I have done in the past.  And the truth, is I really don’t want to walk away.  I have loved getting back into sketching and drawing and meeting fellow enthusiasts online (although not so sure I should include myself as an ‘enthusiast’ at this moment in time).  Now I realise that this slump is more about my ‘inner critic’ giving me a hard time than it is about my sketching skills. I thought I was getting better at not worrying so much about the end result, but it turns out I’m really not.  I’m still worrying more about the outcome than I am about the process.
That’s something I really have to work on.

But I am determined my inner critic is not going to get the better of me this time.  Last week I decided if I was going to constantly berate myself about the quality of my sketches I was going to have to go back to basics and learn some fundamentals, so I signed on to an online ‘Foundations’ course with Liz Steel.  Liz is a Sydney-based sketchbook artist (and an architect in a previous life) who was also one of my previous teachers at Sketchbook Skool.  Coming from an architectural background rather than an artistic one, Liz has a very analytical approach to sketching which immediately attracted me.  (And, bonus, this particular course is self-directed, which means I can progress through it in my own time, with no pressure to upload weekly homework assignments.  Yay!)

spatterI had a look at the first lesson this weekend.  It was all about getting to know your materials, deciding what you you were comfortable with, what you liked using, and what you didn’t like using.  I spent a happy couple of days (with the stereo turned up loud)  ‘playing’ with my watercolour paints and pencils, mixing colours and textures and generally making an all around mess. (I have decided I am still much more comfortable with my watercolour pencils than with watercolour paints and that I really, really like sketching with my fountain pen. Who knew?)  And, guess what?  I had fun.

There was no ‘assignment’ as such.  But there was a ‘prompt’.  Do a sketch of alI the materials I would like to include in my ‘field kit’.  Mmmmmm.  I think Liz’s idea of a field kit and mine might be slight different.

Below is a sketch of the only bag at home that I found that was large enough to carry everything I decided I might need for a sketching foray out into the big wide world.  I’m thinking this might be something else I might have to work on . . .

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Posted by on September 20, 2016 in Uncategorized

 

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‘Kookaburra sits in the old gum tree . . . ‘ Marion Sinclair.

Stories from my Sketchbook . . . 

There is a bit fat beautiful kookaburra that comes to visit my house most days.

Rather than the gumtree, he prefers to sit on the birdbath just outside my living room window.  The window is a large one and on the inside there is a little sill where the dogs like to sit, leaning up against the warm glass, watching the world go by.  The bird bath is about 2 feet in front of that the window (as the kookaburra flies) and sits almost at eye-level with the girls.

He’s clever, this kooka.   He knows the dogs can see him  . . . and he also knows they can’t get at him.   He will descend gently onto the rim of the birdbath, fix them with his beady eye, and then, when he has their full attention, he will begin his ablutions, carefully primping and preening his feathers until he has them just rightand then, suddenly, he will bomb the birdbath, sending water splashing all over the window.  It sends the girls into a mad salivating frenzy every time.

And when he has them all wound up and running back and forth along the sill, barking frantically, he will become bored with their noise, slowly turn, give them one final look over his shoulder and with a throaty chuckle, he’s gone.

It then falls to me to spend the next 10 minutes trying to calm down three agitated, steamed up and completely over-excited little dogs.

Thanks for that mate . . .

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 Kookaburra sits in the old gum tree,
Merry merry king of the bush is he.
Laugh, Kookaburra, laugh, Kookaburra,
Gay your life must be!

Kookaburra sits in the old gum tree,
Eating all the gum drops he can see.
Stop Kookaburra, stop Kookaburra
Save some there for me!

Kookaburra sits in the old gum tree,
Counting all the monkeys he can see.
Stop Kookaburra, Kookaburra stop.
That’s not a monkey, that’s me!

Marion Sinclair’s Kookaburra Song won a competition run by the Girl Guides Association of Victoria and was first performed at the World Jamboree in Frankston, Victoria in 1934.

 
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Posted by on September 13, 2016 in Uncategorized

 

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‘Sunset is still my favorite color, and rainbow is second.’ Mattie Stepanek.

coloursStories from my Sketchbook . . . 

I love colour—which, I admit, is a bit of a strange thing for me to say considering I am always more comfortable wearing black—but even so—I really do love colour.  I am drawn to it in all it’s many forms, from the subtlest and palest of washes to colours so vivid they make your eyes water.  And, for the most part, I have a pretty good eye.  I know which colours will work with others, and which won’t.

But knowing isn’t always enough.  It doesn’t always translate onto the sketchpad or canvas.  There are so many techniques to be learned (and practised) especially when it comes to mixing colours, and I still have so much to learn.  (So far, when it comes to mixing watercolours at least, the colour ‘mud’ I have down pat . . .)

biroThankfully, mixing colours was not an issue for me this week.  This week’s SBS tutor was Andrea Joseph, well known for her fabulous ball-point pen sketches, and our homework was to produce a ‘one-colour sketch’ of one of our favourite things.  This was a bit of a step back for me, but not in a bad way.  I am very comfortable working in black and white.  I just settled myself on my couch with my sketchbook and my Classic Fine Bic ballpoint pen and drew.  I didn’t have to have pencils, or sharpeners, or erasers, or watercolours, or brushes . . .  just a biro.  I had forgotten how meditative and relaxing it could be (at least until I got cramp in my hand and had to stop for a while . . . )

But something has also shifted within me after all these classes I have been taking.  I am getting a little more adventurous.  Although I was happy enough with the black and white sketch when I had finished, I just felt I needed to add a tiny spot of colour somewhere.  So I did.  My sketchbook . . . my rules . . .

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Mabel is one of my favourite black and white things.  The other is her sister Maude
(although Maudie is like a flea in a bottle and can’t stay still for a moment, even when she is sleeping,
which makes her much harder to draw.)

 
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Posted by on September 6, 2016 in Uncategorized

 

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