Commuters

9/9/24

10/11/24 Bus rides are always rougher than the light
rail, as seen in my wobbly writing and lines!

Although I’m probably still not getting out on public transportation as much as I used to pre-pandemic, I don’t worry about it anymore. I just put on a mask, and life goes on.

10/14/24

10/25/24

I still enjoy sketching fellow commuters, but my comics sensibilities now push me to look for varying perspectives and distances, not just floating heads.

My favorite sketch here is the two feet. Poking its nose out occasionally, a dog was tucked under the seat. I kept trying to see its head, but I finally gave up and went for the part I could see.

10/25/24

Blazing Japanese Maples (and Mixed Media Whim)

 

10/28/24 Japanese maples, Maple Leaf neighborhood

Even these spectacular Japanese maples have not been spared the indignity of bad haircuts, but their brilliance still blazes through.

Media notes: Whenever I use watercolor pencils, I almost invariably use watercolor pencils only; the medium somehow urges me toward purity. On a whim, I pulled out my Pentel Pocket Brush Pen (a favorite for tonal sketches of street trees without color) to draw the tree trunks and limbs (and van), and then I applied watercolor pencils in my usual way: A generous spritz of water first, then color. I was still thinking about which color to apply for the shadow areas of the trees, when I noticed that the PlatinumCarbon Black ink (not completely dry, apparently) smudged a little from the water. I pushed it harder on the underside of the trees’ crowns, and the smeared ink was just the right shading I wanted. Easy-peasy!

Then, on another whim, I used a graphite pencil for the man, his dog, the utility pole and the wires, which I didn’t want to have as much prominence as the rest of the sketch.

Purism, schmurism. Bring on the mixed media.

Smart Bulbs Changed My Life

 

10/27/24 Observation and imagination

After sharing the house with the spouse guy for more than 35 years, surprisingly and with relief, I have adjusted well and relatively quickly to living alone. One of the few things that were harder to get used to, though, was returning to an empty house after dark.

The first time I experienced this was when I traveled to Dallas last April. Past the equinox, days were getting sufficiently longer, but my return flight had me coming home around 9 p.m. It was totally dark by then, and of course it hadn’t occurred to me when I had left home that I would be walking into a totally dark house after fumbling for keys on my totally dark porch. I didn’t like that at all.

Now that we are heading squarely into the Big Dark (I dread this Saturday when we turn the clocks back), I’ve been thinking about how to address the dark house issue. Years ago, we had an automated system that controlled many house lights, including a nice one that brought our “sunrise” light up slowly – a humane way to wake on dark mornings (and they were all dark, even in summer, at the hour we used to get up for all our working years). Over time, the mechanical system became antiquated and eventually stopped functioning. By that time, we had retired, it was no big deal to turn on lights manually, and I rarely returned home to an empty house.

I wanted an automated lighting system again, and I wanted it to be simple and straightforward – no talking to Alexa or some such. Conversations with friends and a little YouTube research led me to inexpensive smart plugs and smart bulbs – and they have instantly improved my life so easily! I use Govee, but there are lots of brands, and they all operate with a phone app.

The only difficulty was that I couldn’t reach my porch light. When my neighbor came to my door at my request, I started to go get my stepladder, but he was already reaching up to open the lamp. Life must be so easy when you’re over 6 feet tall! Now my porch light is smarter than I am, and I’m thrilled about it!

In addition, I put two interior lamps on smart plugs that were equally easy to program. One turns on in the livingroom before I usually wake, giving the house a warm, ambient light that begins to gently contract my pupils for the day (so much nicer than snapping on the harsh bathroom light first thing!). They are all on simple timers, but if I get cocky, I might use the preset program for the porch light that synchronizes with local sunset and sunrise times. (By the way, most of these smart bulbs can change to 16 million colors synching to music for dazzling dance party effects; I’ll stick to basic white, thanks.)

I’m sure tech savvy people have known about these products for years, but until walking through a dark doorway into a dark room brought the issue to my attention, I didn’t know I needed to get smart about it. Now I do, and I am.

Joyce Scott Retrospective and Athenian Lunch

 

10/25/24 Joyce J. Scott's exhibit at SAM, "Walk a Mile in My Dreams"

A couple of decades ago when beadwork was my primary art medium, one of my artist idols was Joyce Scott. At the time, most artists using beads were either making jewelry or following traditional cultural practices. Scott was one of few artists who revolutionized beadwork by using it as a sculptural and installation medium with political and socio-cultural content. Although my work was abstract rather than figurative, I often used the same sculptural techniques as she did, and I always looked at her work with awe.

Exhibit visitors were invited to take part in
a large weaving that would eventually be displayed.

I still do, and Scott’s retrospective exhibit at the Seattle Art Museum, Walk a Mile in My Dreams, is utterly awe-inspiring. It’s not, however, easy to view: She not only doesn’t shy away from difficult topics like rape, lynching or other forms of sexual and racial violence, she puts them in your face. The visual imagery might make you flinch – as it should. Some of it is breathtaking – whether for its stunning beauty or gut-wrenching subject matter or both simultaneously.

Although I sketched a bit in the exhibit, my mind was so full of her imagery and ideas that I had difficulty focusing. It was easier in a room where a huge loom was set up for visitors to try their hand at weaving according to a short video clip of Scott’s instructions. I thought about trying it myself, but I was more interested in capturing another visitor giving it a shot.

I asked Mary Jean to stand by this piece for scale. It's entirely made of tiny beads and fiber elements. Close-up, tiny imagery could be spotted.

After experiencing the exhibit together, Roy, Mary Jean and I enjoyed lunch at the Athenian, an historic restaurant inside the Pike Place Market made famous by a scene in the 1993 film, Sleepless in Seattle (Tom Hanks and Rob Reiner are seen eating there). Apparently some visitors still want to dine there just because of that film. I had forgotten all about that scene being filmed there until I was reminded by the photos on the wall. Service was slow during that busy Friday lunch hour, so we all had plenty of time to sketch through our fantastic window view of Elliott Bay and the Olympics.

10/25/24 Views from the Athenian, Pike Place Market

Another Dayton Maples Retrospective

 

10/22/24 Dayton Avenue Northwest, Greenwood/Crown Hill neighborhood

Since I did it last year, I’m doing it again this year, and then it will become a tradition: a Dayton maples retrospective.

The Dayton Avenue maples in the Greenwood/Crown Hill neighborhood (the trees are on the border between those two neighborhoods, so I’ve used both labels) are the trees I sketch most regularly on my annual leaf-peeping tour. Since I have so many now, it’s fun as well as intriguing to look back at all my sketches of the same trees every autumn. I choose the sketches that were done on dates closest to the one I did in the current year. It’s my version of a perpetual nature journal.

Above is the sketch I made most recently. Compared to when I sketched them in September, they’re showing some color, but this late in October, I’m surprised I didn’t see more. As is apparent from the sketches below, though, the degree of coloring has varied widely around the third week of October.

10/22/23

10/22/20

10/19/18

Documenting Un-Junking

9/17/24 Macrina Bakery, Queen Anne neighborhood

Instead of feeling like a chore as it occasionally has in the past, my sketch journal process has become fun and engaging, mainly due to subject matter: my downsizing project. I enjoy documenting meaningful objects and key events, including my little celebrations of accomplishments.

10/4/24 Caffe Ladro, Roosevelt neighborhood

A critical part of making my sketch journal process possible is sometimes using photo references, even for simple objects that are easily accessible for drawing from life – and that’s a huge change of attitude for me. Long-time readers of this blog know that I have always been so focused on drawing from life that switching to photo references has sometimes been a challenge. I still strongly prefer drawing from life, but in this case, I don’t want anything to interrupt my unjunking process. I’m like the proverbial shark: Once I start clearing an area, I need to keep moving.

10/9/24 Green Lake Starbucks (Sometimes my sketch journal is just about ordinary life.)

10/10/24 Mr. West, U Village

10/16/24 photo reference

The mini vac on Oct. 16 is a good example. When that long-missing item finally came to light, I knew I wanted to document it, but I did not want to set aside the vacuum cleaner until I sketched it. It was easy to snap a photo in the moment, then move on (the vac had been replaced long ago, so I gave it away).

10/17/24 The "We Take Junk" team, who came to my house a total of 4 times. (Photo reference)

10/19/24 When Chris installed my hardwood floors several weeks ago, he spotted the table saw in the basement. I told him I was getting rid of it, and his eyes lit up. I was very happy to know it was going to a good home. (Photo reference)

I’ve also been snapping quick photos of people that I want to include in my documentation. Obviously, I don’t want to get in the way of workers, and often I’m too busy myself helping with the work. I know it must sound so obvious to people who have always been comfortable drawing from photos, but for me, it’s a liberating and novel experience not to draw everything as it is happening.

10/21/24 Santo Coffee, Roosevelt neighborhood (a reward for the previous week's unjunking efforts)

The spread shown below was a spontaneous page design experiment. When I made the sketch of the voting box, my intention was to use the rest of the spread to document something else that happened that day, but I forgot and never finished the spread. The next day, I wanted to document the celebratory doughnuts I had gotten for my junk-removal crew (after four visits, each lasting several hours, you get to be good friends with the people hauling all your junk out). Although I typically would not put two days on a spread, especially crossing the gutter this way, it suddenly occurred to me: Why not? I do it all the time when all the sketches are occurring on the same day – what difference does it make if the sketches occur the next day?

10/23/24 and 10/24/24 

I like to think of myself as a creative person, but sometimes the most obvious things take a long time to occur to me! Anyway, I like the way the composition of the spread came out, and I’m going to push myself to think outside the boundaries of the single page more often. I always enjoy the challenge of making images fit together on a small page – especially since I never know what the next sketch will be.

Halloween with Holidays on its Heels

10/23/24 Swansons Nursery

Swansons Nursery is a fall favorite for USk Seattle. More than a week before Halloween, the store was certainly decked out with autumn-themed decorations and plenty of pumpkins, but it was clear that other holidays were fast on their heels. Staff were already setting up the Christmas train display. Humphrey, the dinosaur topiary (whom I’ve sketched when he was fully “clothed” with greenery), was still wearing boots, hat and scarf in Seahawks/Sounders colors, but I was told his holiday gear was going up soon (as well as greenery, which he was sorely lacking). Workers were also replacing the sports-themed colored lights on parking lot trees with holiday colors. Whew – the retail rush is on!

In any case, we had fun chasing the orange before the colors turned red and green.

As is my usual pattern at Swansons (which we only seem to visit in the cold months), I sketched outdoors as long as I could stand the cold, then went into the café for coffee and chatted with friends.

Farewell, Wedgwood Cedars

 

10/21/24 Red cedars in Wedgwood the day before they were to be cut down

Astra, a centenarian red cedar in the Wedgwood neighborhood, first came to my attention about a year ago. The developer Legacy had applied for a permit to have the tree destroyed. Despite much citizen protest, the climate justice activist group Tree Action Seattle announced that Astra plus four other Wedgwood cedars would be cut down on Oct. 22. Since I had already sketched Astra last year, I decided to sketch the other four cedars the day before they were scheduled to come down.

Standing across the street in front of Wedgwood Elementary School, I couldn’t see all four trees, but I was still impressed by the massive height of those I could see. Soon Legacy will replace them with yet another multi-unit development that independent architects have shown could be built without destroying the trees. As has happened many times – Legacy has cut down more than 1,700 trees in 2024 alone – city regulations supposedly protect mature trees such as these cedars, but loopholes are easily stepped through.

Thank you, beautiful cedars, for all your decades of service. You will be sorely missed.

Ballpoint Nuances

 

Both sketches made with Bics

I rarely discuss the nuances of ballpoint pens, but if not during InkTober, when? Now that I’m three-quarters of the way through the month, I’m finally running out of styles and unique specimens of Bics – my favorite ballpoint pens for drawing. Of course, I certainly have numerous Bic 4 Colors in various color combos and probably an infinite number of advertising Clics and Stics (or at least I used to; I was merciless during my recent dejunking of drawers). But I thought the challenge would be more interesting if I started trotting out other ballpoints I have.

Oct. 17: Bic; Oct. 18: Caran d'Ache

Although Bic is still my favorite by a wide margin, if I had to choose a No. 2, it would be the Caran d’Ache 849 ballpoint (Oct. 18 at right). I have several, but they differ only in body color. It’s kind of the opposite of the Bic: Overpriced but made of a solid yet lightweight metal body and a quiet, bouncy knock. I wouldn’t own so many just for the varying bodies, though, if I didn’t like the ink (contained in Caran d’Ache’s overpriced, proprietary cartridges, of course). It’s not Bic, but it’s smooth and reliable to draw with (at least for small studies like these). It just takes longer to build up values. One positive quality is that it never blobs like Bic ink is prone to doing regularly.

Worse yet for building values is the Uni Jetstream, which is my favorite for writing but one of my least favorites for drawing. The sketches for Oct. 19 and 20 (below) made a convenient page (almost like a product comparison test) of basic Bic Clic and Cristal pens (Oct. 19) and a Jetstream (Oct. 20). I’ve said this before, but Bic ink is like a graphite pencil in its pressure sensitivity and ability to layer with subtle gradations. My technique is the same in both of these sketches, but the individual lines are more apparent with a Jetstream.

I should also pause here to mention that I’ve been using a white 0.5 Sakura Gelly Roll all month for highlights, and I’ve been pleasantly surprised by its good behavior. It hasn’t clogged yet. (I have more than week to go . . . I hope I haven’t jinxed it.)

Oct. 19: Bics, Oct. 20: Uni Jetstream

Two "grades" of Bics used for this one

Blustery Evergreen Washelli

 

10/20/24 Evergreen Washelli cemetery

I've sketched the Doughboy monument nearly
every time I've visited the cemetery. I decided on
an abbreviated composition this time.

Totally unsheltered Evergreen Washelli cemetery is an iffy proposition in late October when the weather can be all over the place, but it seemed like a fun idea right before Halloween. USk Seattle decided to chance it. With high winds blowing all day and a forecast of rain by 3 p.m., I was afraid I might be the only one waiting at the American Doughboy monument, but seven other hardcore sketchers showed up!

The weather was definitely all over the place: Despite the harsh wind and eventual rain, the temperature was in the balmy mid-60s – unusually warm for October. My sketchbooks were hard to hang onto for most of these sketches. When I got tired of being shoved around by the wind, I drove to my favorite tree at this cemetery and sketched from inside my mobile studio: A gnarly yet elegant old sakura that I’ve sketched at least a couple of times before, including in April when the last of its petals were still clinging. This time I used ArtGraf water-soluble graphite, and I was reminded of how much I miss graphite! (I’m looking forward to Pencilvember.)

Cherry tree

We decided to meet for our throwdown a little earlier than scheduled to avoid the oncoming rain. As I pulled out of the cemetery for home, the first drops of rain started falling. Whew!

The windblown look!

Sky Blue Bin

10/17/24 Maple Leaf neighborhood

Last year I took an urban sketching workshop from Ellie Doughty on Domestika. It was a fun and inspiring look at how she uses a limited color palette with mixed media. One tip that stays with me (and that I mentioned in this post) is her strategy for keeping a color palette cohesive: If she uses a color, she always tries to use it in at least one more spot so that its use will not seem random.

That useful tip popped into my head as I was finishing up this sketch. After coloring the recycle bin blue, I realized it was my only use of blue. Duh – the sky! No randomness here. 

Walking Leaf-Peeping Tour (Plus Hahnemühle Paper Issue)

10/15/24 Amelanchier trees,
Maple Leaf neighborhood 
(This is the side of the block paper that I prefer)

10/16/24 Japanese maple,
Maple Leaf neighborhood

My walking leaf-peeping tour is in full swing. Although not as brilliant as in some years, the trees have not disappointed me. Some have seemed later than usual; others earlier (and already past peak), but the staggered coloring makes every walk exciting.

I learned from my plant-knowledgeable friend Mary Jean that the block of beauties at left are Amelanchier trees. The rest of the year, they are non-descript street trees, but in the fall they turn brilliant red.

At right is one of my favorite Japanese maples within walking distance. It’s not quite at peak yet. Behind it stands a huge maple of another variety, already in the red/purple stage.

Paper notes: Putting these two sketches in the same post gives me an opportunity to complain again about a discovery about this Hahnemühle paper that I had mentioned in a recent post. When I first bought a block of 100 percent cotton Hahnemühle paper for a hand-binding experiment, I assumed it would be the same paper that Hahnemühle uses in the sketchbook that has become my favorite for wet media.

Initially I had noticed that the block paper had slightly more tooth than its bound counterpart, but I was fine with that. What I didn’t realize until I made that full-spread sketch was that the two sides of the paper are significantly different. (Signatures folded with all the sheets facing the same direction would put opposing sides next to each other on a spread.) The difference is especially apparent when I use the aggressive dry-on-wet technique that I love to use with watercolor pencils when sketching foliage because the colors go down more vibrantly than if I apply them dry-on-dry and then apply water afterwards.

I thought I could tolerate this paper anomaly if I simply avoided full spreads that would make the difference apparent. But the more I use the “wrong” side (from my perspective; I’m not sure which side is considered the “right” side), the more it annoys me. The texture on the side I prefer and even its sizing seem to take watercolor pigments more easily or better, or something. It seems less absorbent.

Because I’m a geek, I made some swatch tests using the two opposing sides of the handbound book and a store-bought Hahnemühle book. The purchased book’s paper is definitely the same on both sides, and it’s different from either side of the block paper. While making the swatches, I realized I prefer the paper in the purchased book.

Hahnemuhle 100% cotton block paper (handbound; the two pages show opposite sides of the paper)

Hahnemuhle 100% cotton commercially bound sketchbook (facing pages)

I’m going to have to think about this for the future – whether having the economy and slimmer size of a handbound book is worth the inconsistency of the paper.

Pencil notes: For the early part of leaf-peeping season, I used Caran d’Ache Museum Aquarelles for most of my fall palette. Using my typical dry-on-wet technique for trees, however, I really missed the quick intensity of the Derwent Inktense I had replaced with the Museums.

What??! Am I forsaking my long-beloved Museum Aquarelles for – gasp! – Inktense pencils that I had looked askance at for years? No, of course not. For almost all water-soluble colored pencil techniques, I still favor Museums, which I believe are unquestionably the best. For example, Museums are creamier and more pleasant to apply dry-on-dry, and activation with water is easier to control. But for the specific technique I use for trees, Inktense pencils are more efficient. In terms of color intensity, you probably can’t see much difference between these (done mostly with Inktense) and the ones from September, like this one, done mostly with Museums. It’s more about how they feel to work with.

Rising, Setting

 

Several months ago when I was trying to figure out my game plan for downsizing, I had solid reasons to trade our traditional, two-story house for a small condo. The primary one was to cut the square footage in half – less space to heat and cool, less stuff to eventually move to a retirement community, overall less. I also wanted to reduce the wear and tear on my body (and the risk of falling) by eliminating or reducing the number of staircases I use daily. The yardwork was something I had never been interested in, and the relentless maintenance tasks for a centenarian house were burdensome. (I also mistakenly thought that by buying a condo, I could get half the house for about half the price – what a misperception!)

A real estate agent helped me find some condos within my criteria, but none made me even want to go inside to look. I would walk around the buildings, try to imagine the sketching possibilities from the windows, and cross them off my list. And then I would think about the shady, private backyard deck that I enjoy every year from May through September, having meals and feeding jays (not to mention sketching). This past summer, my first without the spouse guy at home, it was comforting to recall all the time we enjoyed out there together, especially during the pandemic. If I moved, I would miss that deck dearly.

Now that I’ve made the decision to stay put and downsize within, my appreciation for all I’ve loved about this house has increased. High on my love list is that I can see and sketch sky colors of both sunrise and sunset without getting out of my jammies. The weeks around the equinoxes are especially convenient – the sun comes up and goes down within sketchable waking hours.

Thank you, old Maple Leaf house, for all you continue to give me every day (and that I hope to enjoy for many years yet). I will not take you for granted.