Art is for the Making

2010-12-27T15:43:00.002-05:00

This year instead of a partridge in a pear tree, my song was about a parsnip in my sketchbook.

I spent the holiday with a terrible head cold. To keep myself occupied while everyone else celebrated, I asked the kids to find something in the kitchen for me to sketch. They brought me a parsnip from the crisper. I'm not even sure why I had a parsnip in the crisper since I've never cooked or eaten a parsnip in my life. But, at least I can now say I've sketched one.

2010-12-19T00:49:00.005-05:00

A cellphone shot of another small nativity scene I made this week. Same characters, slightly different wardrobe. I really want to work on some wise men, angels, and shepherds, but time is running out this season.

2010-12-16T23:31:00.003-05:00

Getting back to the sketchpad after a long break.

2010-12-10T20:10:00.011-05:00

The busy fall season is over. Whew. I'm hoping to get back to the drawing table now.

In the meantime, I found out there is a craft fair this weekend in the neighborhood. I didn't have much time to make many items to contribute to the fair, but I did manage to finish a few things.

I crocheted some bears and outfitted them in tops and accessories.

And I made a small nativity scene made from wool felt and a bunch of pipe cleaners. Gotta love crafts with pipe cleaners.

update: everything sold out, plus I got orders for more bears, more nativity scenes, and a request for some flower drawings. Whooohoooo.

2010-09-06T19:43:00.002-04:00

September Sunday in a Brooklyn park.

D train, last stop

2010-08-29T14:10:00.016-04:00

Still waters. I like still waters.

I like the warm sand, cool and damp when I dig my toes into it. I like the sound of the waves, I like the white bright light of the sun, and I like the horizon so far away. But I don't like the feel of the water that moves and moves and moves without ever stopping. Lakes and pools - where the water stays in one place - are where I like to swim. When I went to the beach last week, I kept my notebook next to me, dry.

The girl in the yellow shirt was at the beach with her family. Her father, dressed in slacks and white button-down shirt, stood the entire time he was there. Her mother napped on a blanket. Her little sister fussed in a stroller and the girl in the yellow shirt sat with the toddler in the sand and built a castle, topped with a small umbrella she took from the stroller. Her father told her the stroller umbrella didn't belong in the sand. A vendor walked by selling peeled mangos on a stick for $3 and the girl in the yellow shirt asked for one, but her father said no. Then the girl in the yellow shirt stood up without a word, pulled a shower cap on her head and walked to the shore. When she came back, she brought a handful of broken shells and she quickly added them to the castle because her father said it was time to go.

Still waters.

Saturday in the city

2010-08-29T02:51:00.008-04:00

I visited a garden I've been wanting to see for awhile. I drew this medley of flowers that surrounded me as I sat on a bench and soaked in some summer sunshine.

Enjoy the views from the garden with me:

2010-08-29T01:31:00.001-04:00

Bronx View

2010-08-25T22:02:00.003-04:00

View from the 1 train platform at the 225th Street station, the first stop in the Bronx after crossing the Harlem river from Manhattan.

Soccer Mom Drawings (again)

2010-08-23T17:24:00.012-04:00

Not everyone can see the slide show in the previous post, so I'm putting the same images here (but without the snappy background music).

During the spring soccer season, I used the time during practices to work on my drawings.

In the above sketch, I have a detail of a lady's thumb stem, some lamb's quarters in flower, and an English plantain. I found all of these along a fence in the park.

Above is a lady's thumb. The chevron on the leaves gives the plant it's name. The mark is said to have been left by a lady when she touched the plant with her thumb. Not all leaves have the chevron, but the plant is easy to identify by the small pink flowers.

The taste of wood sorrel reminds me of childhood. We snacked on it as kids when playing outside. Did anyone else nibble on shamrock as a child, or now? So tasty! (Note to self: sorrel has two r's.)

This white campion is a champion. I picked it in a neglected stretch along a road when I visited a place on the border between Queens and Brooklyn (Queens and King counties). From there, I traveled to the soccer field by subway - which took forever - and this white champion didn't wilt. I'm quite fond of this plant, and I discovered that carrying a weed on a crowded subway at rush hour is quite a conversation starter.

I don't know what this weed is. The flowers were white and the plant was very short. I found it in a crack in the sidewalk.

Here's another lady's thumb (no chevron but distinctive pink flowers) and some sort of grass.

This fall I'll be back on the sidelines several times a week as both my kids play in the fall league. I'm hoping the warm weather lingers all season so I can draw during practices and not huddle with fingers wiggling in mittens to keep warm.

Spring Soccer Drawings

2010-08-23T12:26:00.003-04:00

On the way from the subway to the field, I picked wild plants from curbsides and along fences to draw during soccer practices in the spring.

Make an on-line slide show at www.OneTrueMedia.com

2010-08-20T21:12:00.003-04:00

Two different days, two different notebooks, two different views of the same nasturtium plant.

There was a tiny inchworm crawling around the leaves as I drew the version below. He's on the leaf second from the top, looking around to make his next move.

I figured out this week that I've been saying the name of this plant, nasturtium, incorrectly my whole life. As I drew this plant, just about everyone who walked by said, "Oh, those are the flowers you can eat. I've had them on salads." And someone else would say, "Yes, I've had them too." They would walk away and the next set of people would have the same conversation. They all pronounced the name in a strange way, which is how I figured out I've been saying it wrong.

I've had these flowers on salads.

Please scroll down to look at my first-ever video I've made in the post below.

A Garden Visit

2010-08-20T21:08:00.001-04:00

You're invited to look at the NYC garden where I sketched the plants in the post above.

Make an on-line slide show at www.OneTrueMedia.com

2010-08-19T22:43:00.006-04:00

I spent the afternoon at one of these tables today.

And this is what I saw while I sat there.

Yesterday I visited the botanical garden in the Bronx.

I'm trying to get the hang of drawing scenes. It's a challenge for me to draw something I can't hold in my hand. I'll keep practicing.

2010-05-14T11:56:00.004-04:00

The farm lady is back. There is a woman in my neighborhood who has a farm upstate. Sometimes she sets up a tv tray on the sidewalk near my apartment and sells items from her garden. I never know when she will be there, and just when I forget about her, she appears.

2010-05-06T20:43:00.005-04:00

After I drew this locust bloom today, I popped the flower in my mouth and ate it. Sweet. We all have heard that John the Baptist ate locust in the wilderness, but I suspect he was foraging tasty food from the tree, not chasing grasshoppers for dinner.

2010-05-04T09:33:00.003-04:00

I made this simple line drawing of a geranium in the churchyard down the street this morning.

I like drawing this plant because it's complicated and I have to edit as I draw. I like the bench that is next to the plant (I like that very much), and I like the cup of coffee I buy before heading to the bench. I would like more time to work on the drawing, but I suppose it's good to have many things to do. Still, I wouldn't mind dumping the to-do list once in awhile, or at least draw a flower on top of it.

2010-05-03T11:56:00.003-04:00

A pineapple weed (in color) and some other weed I haven't identified.

I drew this while my daughter and son had soccer practice last Friday. I sat on a set of stone bleachers with an array of weeds my son picked for me to draw, my colored pencils, and a iced-coffee from Dunkin Donuts. At one point a young dad carrying a baby came to see what I was doing. He said, "That's actually good." Another man, talking on a cell phone to someone in his office, stood over me for a long time watching. I looked up at him a couple of times, but I didn't say anything since he was on the phone. He eventually left without saying a word to me.

Later my son bounded up to me after his practice. "Look what I found! It's so cool. Can I keep it?" It was a half a roll of silver duct tape.

2010-05-02T20:23:00.005-04:00

I drew this Creeping Charlie (ground ivy) on my first visit to the riverbank this spring. A fisherman on the bank of the river came over to look at what I was drawing and gave me a thumbs up. The guy fished without a rod or reel - just a line and a sinker. Later in the day he caught a catfish and cleaned it on a big rock on the water's edge. Then he hopped on the top of the rock and did push ups.

2010-04-30T23:27:00.002-04:00

In between loads of laundry tonight, I drew the nearest thing I could find - a few sticks from a bundle of dried spice bush berries I have hanging in my kitchen.

Last winter my son went sledding. I wasn't there, but he tells me he was on a super fast run toward the end of the day. He dodged a tree at his super fast speed and steered his way to safety by slipping down low under a bush.

When the sled stopped, my son saw he was surrounded by spice bush berries. He picked a bunch of the twigs, brought them home, tied them in a bundle with a purple twisty-tie, and hung them up in the kitchen.

When I took down the twigs tonight to draw, I said, "Where did we get these twigs anyway?" He told me the whole story of the super fast sled run that I missed last winter. I was probably doing laundry.

2010-04-21T12:08:00.002-04:00

I found a retro-looking steno pad at Staples. It's perfect for quick sketches and notes.

2010-04-20T20:21:00.001-04:00

I spent some time last night listening to good music at home and drawing a flower from a bouquet I received.

2010-04-02T18:41:00.002-04:00

Some of the blooms are fading on the tree.

2010-03-21T22:21:00.000-04:00

2010-03-20T22:26:00.002-04:00

Different day, different journal, same magnolia tree. Things are changing on the branches!

2010-03-17T23:19:00.002-04:00

I drew in the park today and then kept doodling on the other side of the page while riding the bus to the Bronx and back. It was slow doodling because I had to wait for the bus to stop at red lights.

2010-03-12T22:17:00.001-05:00

2010-03-11T01:12:00.002-05:00

It's been ages since I put pencil to paper, but today I was inspired by signs of spring and by a visit to a museum. I found a plant, piece of paper, and a pencil, and....oh, it was fun.

2010-01-06T11:34:00.010-05:00

"I wish I could draw that," I thought.

I don't normally draw people - plants are my interest - but I couldn't resist the scarf on the woman sitting across from me on the subway yesterday. The scarf was made of gold-colored fabric, tied neatly and expertly, held with a pin, and had a cone shape that I couldn't help staring at.

I finished the sketch just before she left the train at 14th Street. I got off one stop later and headed to a meeting in the Village.

The meeting was in a jazz club, in the afternoon before it opened for the evening. A jazz combo rehearsed in the corner. Behind the band was a marquee that said, "Featuring the MUSIC of (blank space) and His ORCHESTRA." I wanted to grab a marker and fill in the blank, but instead I attempted to sketch the drummer in the group while I sat on a ratty red couch under the one bright light in the place and drank surprisingly good coffee.

On the subway home, this young guy sat across from me. The way he wore his hat made me smile, and I wanted to try to capture the look on paper.

2010-01-03T02:00:00.004-05:00

Another drawing of a Christmas cactus.

Colored pencils in Moleskine.

2010-01-02T00:12:00.003-05:00

A blooming Christmas cactus to kick off the new year. I should write more in this post, I suppose, but I want to get back to the plant and draw it again.

Happy New Year to all of you.

Colored pencil on sketchpaper.

2009-12-02T23:42:00.002-05:00

Life's been rather hectic for me this fall, and I haven't quite developed the habit (stamina, discipline) of making drawing a priority when life is busy. But this gourd helped me. When I saw this decorative gourd showing its age, I couldn't resist drawing it.

I flipped the gourd around and around, studied it from different angles, and finally settled on looking at it straight on from the bottom. The design reminded me of a fanciful sea creature more than a vegetable.

I'm grateful to this decaying gourd for luring me back to my colored pencils. The gourd is now in the garbage, but my pencils are arrayed right here next to my on my desk again.

2009-10-18T11:56:00.007-04:00

Yesterday I took my daughter to an art workshop at a museum. The topic was William Blake and his printmaking and poetry. The kids carved the initial first letter of a poem and an image to go along with whatever poem they selected. They made prints of their carvings and then hand copied the poem on the page.

As the kids worked, I kept my eye on the supplies. When I saw there was plenty left over, I asked the instructors if the parents could make some artwork too. A few adults joined me at the supply table, and we gathered what we needed quickly as it was close to the museum's closing time.

The security guards eventually kicked us out, and my work was rushed...but it was fun to make!

I'm pretty sure the kids in the workshop had fun too.

The Song of the Geranium Fairy was written by Cicely Mary Barker.

While we made art, my son played goalie for the first time in soccer. Two goals got past him, but watch out next time! Season stats so far: 1 win, 2 losses, 2 ties.

2009-09-26T23:13:00.003-04:00

I found a great big rose bush on my morning walk the other day, in a traffic median of all places. It's sort of an odd spot to stop and draw a picture and drink my coffee, but I can't resist the rose hips.

Colored pencil and regular pencil, Moleskine. The colors didn't scan very well. The drawing is much browner than it looks on the screen, so maybe squint and use your imagination to get the proper look.

2009-09-23T10:15:00.005-04:00

Snippets I've heard lately:

"You ain't got swagger in that wrinkly shirt, man."
Man to his buddy on the subway.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"Don't try to do it for ten minutes. Go for one minute or even one second. One second is better than no seconds." Teacher to student. Does it matter what the teacher is teaching for this advice to apply?

I'm breaking up the image in my head that I need solitude, silence, and space to work on my writing and drawing. When I really look at my day, look at it as closely as I look at a flower when I draw it or as closely as a memory when I use it in a story, I see spaces in my day ... spaces with enough room for a piece of paper and pencil.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"Where did you get your shirt?" This comment was directed at me. I wore my t-shirt with the name of my neighborhood sprawled across it while drawing a tree yesterday morning. A woman walking by noticed my shirt and asked me about it.

"I got it at the bike shop," I said.

"You go there? To the bike shop? I've lived here forever and I've never been in that shop. You really go there?

"I bought this shirt there, so yeah, I guess I go there."

"Right," she said, "I've never been inside that place. The bike shop, huh? That's the only place that sells those shirts?"

"Or that really cute coffee shop on the corner."

"Oh good!" she said, "They have a knitting group there."

I don't knit or bike much, but I got swagger in my shirt, even if it's only for one second at a time.

~*~*~*~*~*~

A series of unfinished drawings is better than no series of finished drawings.

2009-09-22T08:47:00.004-04:00

A tree.

I'm learning how to make the best use of my time in the mornings. I need to practice faster renderings in my limited time, and that's what I did with this tree. I'd like to get an even lighter hand with the lines and learn how to say more with less. Perhaps this tree will teach me, if I visit it again and again. It's a lovely tree, tucked away in a quiet place behind the corner of a building.

2009-09-21T00:01:00.002-04:00

Today I sat under a sweet gum tree by the Highbridge Water Tower, just above the Harlem River.

As I drew this page in my sketchbook, an exercise class was working out on the plaza by the tower. It might have been a prison program instead of an exercise class. I couldn't really tell.

The female instructon (warden?) shouted to the group of men working out, "I don't want to hear any of your bitch-assiness!" When one class member (inmate?) didn't count his pushups, she kicked him.

I moved to a bench a bit further down the plaza and I tried to get interested in drawing the tower, but the sweet gum tree blocking my view of the tower captured my attention more.

I drew my view, plus a leaf and a crazy sweet gum seed pod I picked up from the sidewalk, but I was frustrated with the tower. I don't like how the building looks on my page, but I'm not going to get all bitch-assy about it.

If you're keeping track, the purple team won the soccer game today.

Colored pencil in Moleskine sketchbook.

2009-09-14T21:36:00.003-04:00

This drawing fits nicely on the page spread, I think, and making the drawing was easy to fit into my morning today. I walked out the door, found the nearest flower, and drew it.

Simple pleasure.

Pencil, Moleskine sketchbook, and a little time in the morning.

2009-09-13T17:35:00.004-04:00

The purple soccer team lost, despite my cheers from the sidelines, but it was a good first game. By the end of the season, we spectators will be wearing winter coats and sharing hot coffee out of Thermos bottles. But today, we sat in the late summer sun and said, "Which kid is yours?" to each other. And, I drew a flower.

Colored pencil, Moleskine sketchbook.

2009-09-10T08:36:00.008-04:00

Oh dear. Another unfinished sketch from my morning
walk-sketch outing. The change in my schedule
in the fall is showing up in
my sketchbooks...or, rather, not showing up in my sketchbooks.

But, the good news is that this plant is past the blooming stage and won't change much before I can get back to it tomorrow morning. And, the little garden I visited today is across the street from a great coffee shop with friendly staff and nice bathroom. Woohoo. Life is good.

Colored pencil in a brand new Moleskine notebook, purchased last evening and opened this morning.

2009-09-09T09:00:00.005-04:00

Next time someone says to me after a late dinner, "How about some coffee?" remind me not to say, "Make it an espresso."

And the next time it's midnight on a Tuesday and I say, "Let's flip the record and listen to the other side now," please remind me that Wednesday morning comes in a hurry.

I don't mind unfinished drawings, but I sure would like to get started on one before I leave it unfinished, and I need to be awake and out of bed to do that.

The day is still young, though, and maybe I can shirk some responsibilties and get back to the drawing pad before bedtime.

Colored pencils, pencil, regular ol' drawing paper, made in a rush this morning in the church yard down the street.

2009-09-08T22:25:00.006-04:00

I've always loved to write, and I've always loved notebooks and paper. I keep lists, write stories, record conversations, vent, dream, plot, and scheme in my notebooks.

But now that I've started drawing, I'm not leaving myself much room for the notes anymore.

Colored pencils and regular pencil in a new Moleskine notebook. Geraniums remind me of my mom. She liked bright geraniums on the front porch of her blue house.

2009-09-07T00:01:00.002-04:00

These wildflowers are blooming everywhere now. I wanted to capture them in a simple drawing, without too much detail, to match their sweet and friendly look.

Colored pencil on bristol board.

2009-09-06T00:01:00.002-04:00

Wild grapes, along the path to the Hudson River.

Colored pencils in Moleskine sketchbook.

2009-09-05T00:01:00.009-04:00

Just as I started drawing a rosebush in a nearby garden this morning, a woman peeked her head into the gate in the stone wall near me and said, enthusiastically, "Hi!"

It seemed as if she mistook me for someone else because she startled when I raised my face from my drawing and said, "Hi" back to her. I thought she'd recover from her start by commenting on the weather, or noticing the flowers I drew, or saying, "Oh, I thought you were someone else."

But instead, the woman jumped when I said hello and then she scurried away.

I didn't think much about the encounter until lunchtime when a friend of mine and I chatted about our mornings. I sort of ran out of things to say and came up with the story of how I startled the woman with my "hi!".

"She said hi and then jumped away when you said hi?" my friend asked. I was surprised at the interest. Usually my stories aren't so good that early in the day.

"Yes, she was friendly one instant and timid the next. I felt bad for giving her a scare," I said.

"What did she look like?"

"She was wearing a jogging suit, about medium build. She was walking a dog."

"What was her hair like?" my friend asked, and I described her hair. Her hair was a bit unusual in my neighborhood.

"That same woman said hi to me, just now!" my friend said. "On my way here, a woman said hi to me in a super friendly way. It took me off-guard because I didn't recognize her, but she seemed to recognize me. She was exactly as you described."

"The same hair?"

"Exactly."

"Did she have a dog?" I asked.

"I don't know," my friend said, "she ducked behind a car as soon as I said hello to her."

"She ducked behind a car?"

"I thought I scared her."

"Hmmm," I said.

"Yeah," my friend said, "Hmmm."

No time for color sketches today. Contour drawing in number 2 pencil on bristol board.

2009-09-04T00:01:00.007-04:00

While drawing this driftwood, I held my childhood in my hands. On family vacations to lakes in Canada, we collected driftwood on the shores and then displayed the wood at home. My mom in that era decorated our living room starkly, with modern, hard lines and in black and white. The silver gray driftwood somehow softened the room, and I could touch and play with the driftwood all I wanted, unlike other items in the room.

I began to wonder if this piece of driftwood was from the Hudson River near my apartment now or if it was a piece that I took from my childhood home when I left it. I couldn't recollect where I picked up the wood, but it was from somewhere in my life.

I thought about my childhood and family and home and lakes and cold places and the beautiful effects of moving water on the surface of wood, and I held bittersweet memories of passing time when I held the wood to draw it. The light colors of the piece reminded me of white birch trees under bright skies and against light snow - snow with an almost sandy crust from the dry winter winter wind blowing across it - in our front yard

"This wood," I thought, "is softened and polished by the cold, rugged northern lakes, just like I am." I sighed and felt poetic as I drew.

My thoughts were interrupted. "Oh, you're drawing the desert wood I gave you."

"Desert wood? What are you talking about. This is driftwood from Lake of the Woods. Or maybe it's from Rainy Lake. It might be from the Hudson, but anyway, it's driftwood."

"It's desert wood. I gave it to you last summer."

"Are you sure?"

"I picked up the wood out west on my camping trip. I gave it to you and you said it reminded you of driftwood, except for the colors on the tips held the color of the western sun. You said the wood made you want to visit the desert someday."

"Oh," I said. I pulled out a brighter color and finished the drawing.

Desert wood. Colored pencil and number 2 pencil in Moleskine sketchbook.

2009-09-03T09:31:00.006-04:00

This morning I ran into my neighbor on my way home from drawing outdoors.

"I saw one of your drawings online," he said. A picture I drew was on a local website awhile ago.

"Oh yeah? I drew something this morning. What to see?" I pulled out this drawing to show him.

"Uh hum," he said, looking at the sheet of paper. "What kind of flower is that?"

"I'm not sure," I said. "It's dead. Those are dried up leaves and a dried up stalk, and those little round things...it's all dried up. I don't know what the flowers looked like."

"Uh hum," said my neighbor, "I went on vacation and took photos of live flowers. They're beautiful. I put them in a slideshow on Flickr."

I gave him my email so he could send me a link to the show.
update: I checked out his photos, and they are very nice.

Colored pencils on bristolbard.

2009-09-02T00:01:00.001-04:00

I'm glad I brought along my sketchbook and pencils on an evening stroll. I'm glad I know where a big vine of passion flowers is because I want to try drawing these crazy flowers again. And, I'm glad I brought a sweater with me for the walk home. Autumn is in the air.

Colored pencil, Moleskine.

2009-09-01T09:01:00.003-04:00

I went back to the church yard to do another sketch of the plant I drew yesterday. This time I brought my colored pencils with me. I thought I gave myself enough time to finish, but I didn't. To be continued.

Colored pencils on 9x12" bristol board.

2009-08-31T09:37:00.004-04:00

I saw a woman spraying water on the plants in front of the cafe this morning. She held a small water pump in her hand and spritzed water on top of the bushes.

"What's that crazy kook doing?" I wondered. We've had plenty of rain this season, and anyway, spritzing a yard full of plants seemed, well, kooky.

It turns out she was spraying the water gently on spider webs in the yard and then taking photographs them. Cool, not kooky!

I finished the cafe drawing today. I had trouble with the corners, but I had fun trying and I'll try drawing buildings again. The nice thing about buildings is that they don't grow, wilt, or turn to seed from day to day like plants do.

But plants remain my favorite thing to draw. I was running a bit behind schedule this morning, but I stopped by the churchyard anyway to do a quick contour drawing of this plant.

While I drew the plant in the churchyard, I saw the spider-web photographer again. She got in her car and drove away. I threw away my empty coffee cup and walked home.

The park in this spot has an enchanted feeling, I think. The cafe faces west and the front is dark in the morning when the rest of the park is beginning to get bright. In the afternoon, the sun is softened by a hill to the west. Tall trees covered with vines keep the area shady, dark, and cool all day. Woodpeckers drum out of sight, and their music adds to the magical feeling of the place.

Number 2 pencil in Moleskine sketchbook, plus a photograph of the cafe.

2009-08-30T17:47:00.011-04:00

Yesterday I headed up the street to the second-nearest mulberry tree to pick leaves for the hungry silkworms.

Not far from my building, I saw this plant with small, delicate flowers hanging through a fence. In all the years I've lived on this street, I've never noticed it before, but the plant doesn't look new. I just missed seeing it before. I suppose it's a weed. It certainly was growing in a weedy place. I picked this section from one of the dangling twigs and went home to draw it.

The silkworms should be spinning their cocoons soon.

Colored pencil, Moleskine sketchbook.

2009-08-29T22:23:00.002-04:00

If it rains here another day, I'm packing my bags for a vacation in Seattle. Or maybe London.

This drawing from earlier in the month isn't my favorite, but at least it was a sunny day when I drew it.

For my daily efforts to make art today, I spent my time doing newsletter layout design, which can be super fun. But after a few hours at the computer, the work can get tedious and make me want to pack my bags for Seattle or London. What's the weather like at Cape Horn this time of year?

Colored pencil in Molekskine, Unfinished drawing because it got too hot sitting in the sun. Imagine that on this chilly, rainy day.

2009-08-28T09:31:00.008-04:00

It's raining here again today. I don't mind the rain, under a hat and umbrella and with shoes I don't worry about, but the rain does put a damper on drawing outdoors.

I walked around the park trying out different spots to prop my umbrella so I could draw without holding the umbrella, but the endeavor was a disaster.

So I headed to the bus stop, sat in the sidewalk shelter, and drew what I could see across the street.

One bus driver opened the door at the stop and said to me, "You getting on?"

"No," I said, "I'm not getting on."

"You're not getting on?"

"I'm not getting on. I'm just sitting here."

"You're sitting there?"

"I'm sitting here."

"You're sitting there."

Then he shut the bus doors and drove away.

Number 2 pencil in Moleskine sketchbook. Spill stain from coffee along the edge cropped out.

2009-08-27T09:24:00.008-04:00

Jennifer loves Bryan.

I read Jennifer's declaration of love written in bright pink chalk on the path near the bench where I continued to work on this sketch today. A sprinkling of Corona bottle caps and cigarette butts surrounded the message. A park worker swept up the debis, smudging the words a bit with her broom.

I worked for awhile on the drawing and then closed my sketchbook and headed home when it started to sprinkle rain.

Not sure what the day's weather will mean for Jennifer's chalk love for Bryan.

2009-08-26T09:26:00.003-04:00

The cafe manager had just put out the sign in front of the door with today's menu as I sketched this scene on my morning walk today. If you stop by the place during the day, the bartender will make you a coffee to go, but the restaurant isn't open in the morning, and I went home to make my own coffee.

Number 2 pencil in Moleskine sketchbook.

2009-08-25T00:01:00.003-04:00

A couple of tiny apples from my kitchen table.

I meant to draw a group of apples, but I spilled water from my drinking glass on the paper after two apples and I called the drawing done.

Colored pencil on Academie/Mead heavyweight drawing paper. My scanner wasn't cooperating and there are strange dark and light patches from the scan.

2009-08-23T20:32:00.006-04:00

I went home from the art workshop at a local museum with a battered piece of linoleum and with blank sheets of paper where my prints were supposed to be.

The museum had a special exhibit of prints by Albrecht Durer, the master of all printmakers, and the workshop was a printmaking class. I got my negative and positive space mixed up, which can really mess up printmaking, and I didn't finish any prints in the workshop.

But with my battered linoleum and blank paper, I also went home from the workshop with the desire to try printmaking again. I bought printmaking supplies at an art shop, and the materials have been sitting in a box in my closet ever since.

Since joining EDM, I've noticed some artists making prints, and modern-day master Mark Hill's blog at http://paperravenbks.blogspot.com/ has especially caught my eye.

Looking at his block prints and reading his words, I can tell he has fun with his artwork. He inspired me to pull out my supplies today.

First I used a 3x4" piece of linoleum to carve and then print a detail from the contour drawing I posted yesterday on the blog.Next, I used a slightly smaller piece of speedy-cut rubber to make another print. For the second design, I used a drawing I made awhile ago of a flower. Here's the print with variations:

I'd like to thank Albrecht and Mark for sharing their prints and for inspiring others. (If you could tell me how to erase a carved line gone astray, I'd really appreciate it.)

Supplies used: carving tools, linoleum, rubber, water soluable printing ink, ink roller, and drawing paper for the prints. Most supplies were Speedball brand.

2009-08-23T00:01:00.010-04:00

Soon after I got to the farmers market on Saturday, it started to rain a bit, and then thunder, and then pour and pour some more and more and more.

I stood under the eaves of a building and made a contour drawing of a tall plant against a black fence to keep me occupied until the sky cleared.

The sky never did clear, and I walked back to the train in the rain, worrying about the water drenching my notebooks and not even thinking about how my hair and clothes must have looked soaked.

I love fresh tomotoes like I bought today at the market before it rained, I love a good summer thunderstorm, and I'm sure I'd love one of those waterproof notebooks I've heard about.

Number 2 pencil and black colored pencil in a damp Moleskine sketchbook.

My day in the rain.

2009-08-22T23:47:00.001-04:00

I've been riding the 1 train up to the Bronx a lot lately. The train is elevated in that section.

Below the station at 225th Street, it's dirty, crowded, and noisy with the train tracks overhead and the traffic on Broadway.

But up above the street, as the train passes along the platform, I look out the windows on the west side and see a view of buildings that makes me smile.

Scene seen from the 1 train, Bronx. Colored pencil in Moleskine sketchbook.

2009-08-21T19:21:00.002-04:00

Quick sketch of a wildflower and a quick post to go along with it.

Colored pencil in Moleskine sketchbook.

2009-08-20T19:33:00.002-04:00

As I drew this sunflower today, I got an idea for a larger piece. Sometimes I wonder what to do with these little drawings I do in sketchbooks, and today I saw this drawing as a study for something bigger.

But mostly while I drew this drooping sunflower, I thought of the mosquitoes that were biting me and wishing I'd see a park worker. I wanted to ask the worker if there was any bug spray stashed away in the park office that I could use. Normally I put a little dab of tea tree oil or peppermint oil on my arms and legs, and that keeps the bugs away. But I forgot to dab this morning and I had childhood flashbacks of being sprayed head to toe with bugspray, probably laden with DDT. I really wanted a hit of the hard stuff today.

I finally did see a park worker, but by then I was finished with my drawing and heading home.

He said, "Do you want a cat? We have a stray kitten in the park."

"No," I said, "I already have two cats."

I also have two dozen mosquito bites and an idea for an art project.

Colored pencil in Moleskine sketchbook.

2009-08-20T00:18:00.004-04:00

When I visit artist blogs and look what people are creating, I see lots of pictures of scenes, from quick renderings to long studies. Those scenes have inspired me.

Drawing something I can't hold in my hand isn't my usual style, but it was fun to give a larger subject a whirl.

I sat at an open-air cafe at the Cloisters Museum. The tables, under arched walkways, surround a garden. It's nice to spend time in warm weather at the cafe, even though the brownies cost $3.50 and don't taste that good.

Garden cafe scene. Number 2 pencil in Moleskine sketchbook.

2009-08-19T19:22:00.004-04:00

Did you read the book TALES OF A FOURTH GRADE NOTHING as a kid? It's by Judy Blume. My memory is fuzzy about plot details, but one scene from the book came in handy today.

How I remember it is two boys and a girl worked as a team on a fourth-grade research project. When the time came to hand in the project, someone messed up the cover 0r something like that. So the girl on the team, Sheila, covered the mess with a row of flowers. The boys weren't happy with flowers on their project, but floral decoration was better than the mistake.

Today I carefully wrote out the word "Quince" to label this fruit I drew in the medieval herb garden at the Cloisters Museum. I pressed extra hard with the green pencil.

Something didn't look right. I wasn't sure what it was at first, but it turns out I wrote a capital Z instead of a capital Q. Who handwrites capital Zs and Qs anymore? I'm so out of practice.

I remembered Sheila and her flowers, and I made the green band across the page to cover my mistake. But you can't fool a scanner and with modern technology you can still see my Z under the green.

I should've remembered the words of my mom, who is not named Sheila. She says the original error is bad enough, but it's the cover-up that will always get you in the end.

Quince: a medieval delight. Colored pencil in Moleskine sketchbook.

2009-08-18T16:31:00.013-04:00

Plant name: Mexican hat.
Also known as prairie coneflower or Ratibida columnifera.

It was hot again today and hard to find a spot to sketch that wasn't in the blazing, burning sun.

A group of tourists from Japan were the in park, dressed in what looked like going to the garden attire, complete with umbrellas for sun parisols.

Another group toured the garden while I sketched. They were very loud master gardeners - I heard them mention several times they they were a group of master gardeners. They shouted to each other about soil conditions and such, but when they saw me sitting on the ground drawing, they lowered their voices and whispered to each other instead of shouting.

"I can't hear you when you whisper," I wanted to say, but I didn't.

I did hear this person talking to a companion nearby in the garden:

This looks like oregano. I love oregano. Doesn't this look like oregano? It looks just like oregano, don't you think? I think it does. ... And it smells like oregano. Smell it. That's just like oregano, isn't it? I'm going to taste it. ... It tastes like oregano! This plant is just like oregano. I wonder what it is.

It was oregano.

Colored pencil and #2 pencil in Moleskine sketchbook.

2009-08-17T21:17:00.006-04:00

Anything is better than being stuck in the subway tunnel with the ceiling collapsed on your head. Anything is better than that, even taking the shuttle bus bypassing the damaged subway station with half a million other sweating people during rush hour on a hot and sticky Monday in August.

I draw flowers, not frogs, but after taking the shuttle, not the subway, to Swindler Cove today, I heard the bullfrogs croaking. I didn't expect to see them, but I looked anyway and there I saw one looking at me while he sat on a rock in the pond.

I should say he sort of looked at me. One eye was open and the other eye stayed shut and appeared a little rough. I'm not sure what's he's gone through, and he didn't say. In fact, he didn't say a word the entire time I spent with him, even though I heard the other frogs continue to call.

I worked faster than I normally do because I knew he might jump away at any moment. I don't know frogs, and it was a challenge to get his shape and color quickly while keeping my pencils from slipping through the cracks of the dock and falling into the pond.

He did eventually jump away, so fast, and I saw and heard him hunt flies in another part of the pond while I gathered up my pencils and hunted for some flowers in the shade.

It's not bad to spend a day with a bullfrog on a hot day in August. In fact, I can't think of anything better.

Colored pencil in Moleskine sketchbook.

2009-08-16T17:17:00.005-04:00

My pink flower was accepted to the skine.art webpage for August 16, 2009. I've been a fan of that site for a long time, and it's a big thrill to have my drawing on the page.

Check out what other people are making in their Moleskines. skineart.com

2009-08-16T12:30:00.002-04:00

I drew the apple on the right-side of the page late last night in the kitchen. I thought about making rasberry tea, but it was hot and I didn't want to heat up the room anymore than it already was.

This morning I drew the left-side of the page, drinking hot, strong coffee and eating a cold knotweed muffin with rasberry jam.

Most people who know knotweed don't like knotweed. It's an invasive plant and it has a strange, primitive look. But if you harvest it in spring, you can eat it or freeze it to eat later. I think knotweed tastes like rhubarb.

Not everyone likes rhubarb either, but I do. My mom had a few plants growing in the backyard where I grew up, and I liked to pick a stalk, dip it in sugar, eat it, and pucker my face at the sour flavor.

This apple I drew was tiny, picked from a tree nearby. When I cut it open, the inside turned brown right away. I could see the white change color before my eyes, the effects of oxygen, I guess.

The fan was blowing in the kitchen this morning, not doing much to cool the room on this hot day in August.

Colored pencil in Moleskine sketchbook.

2009-08-15T21:24:00.010-04:00

My dad was a hunter. He was a fisherman too.

My dad's childhood friend was a butcher, and we had fresh, good cuts of meat at every meal from his meat shop, or we ate something my dad shot or caught.

We were a meat-eating family, and I hated every bite of it.

I grew up on pot-roasts and t-bone steaks, on venison, elk, pheasant, and quail. I grew up on walleye, pike, sunnies, and bass. I grew up to be a vegetarian.

Colored pencil and Sharpie pen in Moleskine sketchbook.

2009-08-14T16:31:00.005-04:00

"Hi," I said, "Good morning. I'm here, just like I said I would be."

I didn't receive a reply, but that's okay. I didn't expect one. I began work on this drawing.

Then I began again.

I erased, and began once more.

I erased so much that the creamy color of the Moleskine sketchbook rubbed off in places, and I had white blotches all over the page, with bits of eraser stubble sticking to them.

Yet again, I tried to begin.

"We met yesterday," I said, a bet tense. "I saw you, smiled at you, complimented you, and admired you. I told you I would be back today to spend time with you, and here I am. Now it would be great, really great, if you cooperated and made this drawing easier."

The flower didn't reply, which I know is reasonable, but still, I felt a bit slighted.

"You're in my light," the flower finally said to me, "I'd like the bees to see me."

I stepped into the shade, turned a fresh page, and there I stayed until I was finished.

Colored pencil in Moleskine sketchbook.

2009-08-14T07:55:00.006-04:00

Latest development:

My seed pod drawing in the previous post was approved for the 'skine.art website for today, August 14, 2009. What fun!

Check out that website and see what other 'Skine addicts are creating on their pages. The site is updated daily, and I always enjoy seeing what fresh art appears.

Update: The site was down, but now it's up again. Have fun looking at the 'skine art!

'skine.art

2009-08-13T22:08:00.000-04:00

When I stand by the windows in the back of my apartment, the view isn't much to look at.

I see the back of a building, a tall fence surrounding the outdoor eating area of a restaurant (the "garden" I think they call it, but it's really just an area between two apartment buildings), cement and more cement. If I twist my neck to the left and lean toward the window, I can see a bit of sky and even some sunlight if it's early afternoon.

It used to be that when I was in bed looking up through the window, I could see a tree of heaven. Those are the scrappy trees that thrive in urban areas, breaking their way through cracks in sidewalks. The view from bed was beautiful with the leaves against the wall of the building behind mine.

When my daughter was little, I pretended the tree talked to her. The tree had a low, slow way of speaking that calmed her at night and lulled her to sleep.

The tree of heaven told her that all the trees in the city communicated with each other, spreading news treetop to treetop with their rustling leaves in the wind. He told her he knew what she did all day because the other trees saw her and told him everything. She fell asleep to the tree of heaven narrating her day back to her.

A few years later, when she was old enough to know that the tree's voice was mine, we had to spend a particular day indoors. I don't remember why we had to stay home that day, but I remember the noise from outside. We heard a power saw and the sound of a tree being cut down and chopped up. I looked out the window and gasped. My daughter cried.

The business around the corner was expanding and needed more storage space, more office space, more space that was behind our building. They didn't need the tree.

My daughter had a new diary at the time, and on the first page she drew a picture of her tree of heaven and a picture of herself crying. The caption read, "Today is a sad day." There are no other entries in that diary, though she has filled plenty of books with her stories and pictures. She doesn't want that diary anymore with the sad story in it, but I keep it.

My drawing in this post is of seed pods from a tree of heaven. It might look like a dried-up twig, but to me the seed pods look like the possibility of green leaves against a cement wall and of a little girl falling asleep feeling cozy and looked after.

When I stand next to my back windows now, I see the roof of the storage space of the expanded business below me. And, I see a couple of trees of heaven breaking through the cracks in the cement.

A shadow study with two light sources. Colored pencil in Moleskine sketchbook.

2009-08-13T00:01:00.013-04:00

My dad sometimes said, "Quit your crying or I'll really give you something to cry about."

That never made much sense to me.

He also said, "Don't tell me about what you can't do. Show me what you can do."

That made some sense to me, and I said those words to myself today when I whined that I couldn't draw because I didn't have enough time. Wah, wah.

My whining started when I spotted an amazing pink flower. I wanted to draw it nice and slow, to look at each petal and try to render it's color and shape on paper. But I had no time for that.

After stomping my foot and pouting, "I can't stay here long enough to draw, wah," I pulled out a couple of sharp pencils and my Moleskine to see what I could do with what time I had.

My drawing is not a great piece of art, but making it was a great way to spend five minutes. After putting my pencil to the paper and my mind on the flower, I forgot my feelings of time deprivation and instead realized that a quick sketch in a notebook is better than a big bunch of nothing. It's better than a sharp stick in the eye, too.

My dad's sharp words and quick phrases, from way back when, stay with me long after he's been gone.

2009-08-12T00:01:00.003-04:00

After a subway ride to the Bronx and a transfer to the bus, it's just a 10-minute walk to Wave Hill.

Wave Hill is one of my favorite gardens to draw flowers, especially on Tuesdays when the admission is free.

On my return trek home, I met Chrissy. I heard her ask the subway clerk at the station how to get to Wave Hill and I heard the subway clerk say, "I don't know."

"I know," I said. "I just was just there."

I gave Chrissy the directions and drew a map for her, and then Chrissy said, "What's your name?"

We shook hands and introduced ourselves and that's how I know her name is Chrissy. She's from Florida.

I'm not pleased with today's drawing. The plant gave me a lot of challenges, and I felt lost while drawing it.

The garden sign said the plant's name is Angelica gigas and it's from Korea.

2009-08-11T00:01:00.006-04:00

I rode the 1 train to upper Manhattan to visit a place called Swindler Cove.

Swindler Cove is on the east side of the island, along the Harlem River. For years and years people dumped all sorts of garbage at the site, but the area is being restored now. I'm impressed with the work the restoration group has done, and Swindler Cove is a lovely, quiet, and fun garden to visit, once you get past a few junkies hanging out on the benches where Dyckman Street crosses Nagle Avenue.

As I drew by the tiny pond in the park, I heard a bullfrog croaking. It took me awhile to recognize the sound because it wasn't one I expected to hear. A park worker said a turtle lived in the pond, too, but somebody stole it.

"Turtle is a delicacy to some people," he said and shrugged.

2009-08-10T00:01:00.002-04:00

The story goes that if a lady touches a leaf of this plant, the mark of her thumbprint will be left behind.

My little bundle of leaves didn't have the mark in the middle of any of them, but I'm not taking it personally.

Lady's Thumb is a weed that grows everywhere. I'm glad it's abundant in the parks around here because it gave me something to draw while my kids had soccer practice.

2009-08-09T00:05:00.001-04:00

The grass by the river is being mowed regularly this year. That's new.

In past summers, I sat in the grass surrounded by tall dandelions, chicory, clover, Queen Anne's lace. The plants are still there, but cut short to the ground, and it's harder to find a bloom to draw on the lawn.

On Saturday I went to the river and saw a cluster of chicory on the edge of the rocky bank. I sat down beside it and drew this section of the plant, along the water and under the afternoon sun, which wasn't as hot as an August afternoon sun in New York City is expected to be.

Jose was on the riverbank too, fishing, but he didn't catch anything while I was there. He asked me to draw him casting a line and he posed over and over again in front of me. "No," I said, "I don't draw fishermen." Then he brought me a vine he picked with delicate flowers and little berries on it. I chuckled as I accepted it.

The gift was deadly nightshade, but I don't think he meant anything by it.

2009-08-08T10:02:00.000-04:00

A silkworm moth.

The kids and I have been raising silkworms, and this moth is one from our first batch. The moths recently emerged from their cocoons. Silkworm moths can't fly, though they flap their wings occassionally, and they can't eat. They can mate, and they do that for a few days before dying.

Their feelers remind me of a handlebar mustache.

2009-08-07T09:52:00.000-04:00

Locust blossoms.

It took me a few false starts with these tiny flowers. I looked at and them and looked at them for the longest time but couldn't really see them. I tried drawing them from a different angles, but my flowers looked like blobs. I wasn't happy.

But I was determined to make a sketch that looked something like the real flower and continued to hold the sprig of blossoms in various positions. When I finally held it with the flowers dangling I finally "saw" them. They suddenly reminded me a bit of snow drops, the tiny flowers that appear close to the ground in late winter. With this new perspective, I was able to render a drawing of locust tree blossoms.

The drawing isn't perfect - I have trouble with light colors, but I like it.

And I like the locust trees when they are bursting with their flowers like they are now in the parks. The ground under the trees is covered with fallen flowers and petals. It's a dreamy look, I think.

The flowers are adorable and they are tasty too. You can eat them, which makes me wonder about John the Baptist. It's said that he lived on locusts. Well, maybe it was the tasty and fragrant locust blossoms and not the unappealing insect we assume. I hope so.

2009-08-07T02:22:00.000-04:00

I usually sketch plants, but today my son found a dead cicada on the sidewalk and I wanted to draw it. I don't like insects, but the cicada appealed to me. The wings of this bug are magical and they glisten as if they have gold dust sprinkled on them. The bug eyes are charming. My son was nice enough to carry the cicada home for me.

It wasn't easy for me to draw this guy and his tranparent wings, but it was fun. I might try another sketch of him.

2009-08-06T02:04:00.000-04:00

Dandelions are everywhere, you might as well draw one.

I pick this drawing to kick off my blog about making art. I'm not a trained artist, as perhaps you've noticed, but that doesn't stop me from loving to draw and write and occassionally sew.

I often don't make the time in my daily life to make art and to be inspired by what I see around me. This blog is about a challenge I made for myself: to start paying more attention to my own creativity and to the creative spirit of others.

The specifics of the challenge are that I either make something myself every day and/or notice something that someone else has made or that is part of nature. This blog will be a record of what I make and what I notice.