Sketching to happiness

All the sketches today are from a 5.5" x 8.5" sketchbook

I think this is a sketch of Mario Buatta from
a magazine photo.
(I miss the flourishes in fabric that were
his design style. In Toronto the
hotels have gone minimalist --
the opposite of comfort.)

Black marker on paper

Here is one of many sketches I did while
painting the writer, Sandra Martin's portrait.

Black marker on paper




Another view of Sandra Martin.

Peach pencil on paper

Not all of a painter's days are painting days. I feel for the daily
painters, because in the world I live in progress can
mean getting one small part of the painting right.
Some days -- like after two days of feasting and reveling
to celebrate the harvest -- are meant for sketching,
for quietly slipping back into the art mode through the
familiar feel of pen on paper -- the sketch.

My son Sam and Zoey napping.

Black marker on paper

In museums Picasso's, and Matisse's sketches stand
in harmony with their larger paintings -- acknowledged.
I have walked around many times with the audio
player in my hand listening to erudite scholars
explain the lyrical line, the absence of detail.
But in my artist's heart I know -- the painter was
taking a break, thinking things through, trying to
find relief in line, that might not have been present
that day in blocks of colour.

Or maybe it was a child's birthday, or a day spent not
painting in a café, and there it was in brief notation --
the antidote to not performing for a day, the sketch.
Ahhh. Still an artist. Still have your chops Picasso --
little did you know that in this century we'd pay millions
for your explorations. We love your sketches as much as
your great works, sometimes more.

My son Sam and Zoey the dog fast asleep.

Black ink and acrylic on paper

Have a playing-with-paper day.