Capitol Hill Books and Eats

12/18/24 Elliott Bay Book Co. 

Although I have occasionally stopped in to buy books and gifts, it had been a long time since I last sketched inside Elliott Bay Book Company on Capitol Hill. Roy, Mary Jean and I met up at the store’s café to sketch and chat in the relaxed ambiance with a nostalgic ‘70s soundtrack.

Waiting for our meals at Oddfellows Cafe

For lunch we went next door to Oddfellows Café, which is housed in the historic Oddfellows Hall that was built in 1908. If it had been a warmer day, I might eventually have gone outside to sketch building details that had caught my eye. On this day, I was happy to simply scarf down my asparagus eggs Benedict (unfortunately, the asparagus was woody) and sketch in good company.

We did the first swap of our concertina sketchbooks. I drew MJ and Roy at Oddfellows (below) as my first sketch in MJ’s book, which I’ll keep using until the next time we meet and swap again. It will be really fun to have sketches from both of them in my book eventually.

Walking back to the light rail station, we stopped in at the Blick store, but in the interest of my downsizing, I am proud to say that I did not buy even one thing! Perhaps for the first time ever! I have witnesses!

Mary Jean and Roy sketching at Oddfellows after lunch

Review: Gritin LED Rechargeable Book Light

 

The Gritin rechargeable LED book light

When I went to make my first nocturne this season, I found that the batteries in my Mighty Bright XtraFlex2 Book Light had died. Looking back at the date of my review, I was impressed that the three AAA batteries had lasted 11 years! For nocturnes and occasional concerts, the lamp has served me well. I could have simply replaced the batteries, but I’ve been trying to get away from products that use disposable batteries. The Gritin LED book light on Amazon looked promising.

I gave the light its first charge on USB overnight, so I don’t know how long it took, but my guess is that it wasn’t long. A charge is supposed to last 80 hours (which is probably another decade for me if all I use it for is nocturne sketches!). Instead of varying light levels (the Mighty Bright has two), the Gritin offers three color temperatures of light, which I didn’t think would be a remarkable feature. I was surprised, though, that the warmer setting is less reflective on black paper. I think the feature would be useful for reading, too (what – people actually use book lights to read by instead of making nocturnes??). The bulb casts a wide, even light across the page.

Its best feature, though, is that it is lighter and slightly less bulky because it doesn’t contain batteries. The Mighty Bright is tolerable in weight with a hardcover or thick sketchbook (like my “Stefano” sketchbook cover and a black Stillman & Birn Nova I had been using when I bought the Mighty Bright), but a thinner, softcover Uglybook doesn’t give the lamp enough support, and it tends to flop over. The new Gritin hardly weighs anything and balances well with a softcover book.

Like the Mighty Bright, its illumination is way too bright to use in a concert hall without potentially annoying others. If I take it in public, I’ll try putting some tape over the LED bulb to dim it down, just as I did with the Mighty Bright. In my dark livingroom, though, it was ideal illumination for sketching across the street before dawn.

House to the Southeast (and Simplified Nocturne Kit)

 

12/17/24 7:05 a.m. in Maple Leaf

My neighbors to the southeast are among my street favorites for holiday lights – lively and colorful but not too much. When I made a nocturne last year, I focused on their windmill palm tree (which I enjoy sketching at all times of year). This week I took a wider view to get the simple string of lights around the roof’s edge and tiny tree on the porch. New this year are the lights on their back deck (where all the construction was going on two years ago). Their car in the driveway reflected illumination from their neighbors’ lights.

Technical notes: Shown below is this year’s simplified nocturne kit. I find I really don’t need more than a white colored pencil (currently a Derwent Drawing) and a few opaque paint markers. I’ve lately been using these Pilot Juice pens, which are not necessarily better than Posca, but the “fine” point size on these works well for dots of light. I used a white Gelly Roll instead of the white in the Pilot set because it’s less likely to put out an inadvertent, heavy-handed blob. And a black Uglybooks, of course. Newsflash: I got a new book light for making nocturnes; stay tuned for the review.

My simplified nocturne kit

Finally, My Sketch Journal Sticks

 

12/4/24 Retreat at Green Lake

About a year ago, I got back on the daily sketch journal wagon that I’d fallen off of several times. This is the longest I’ve continued the habit unbroken, and I’m happy that it has finally “stuck.” I think the factors for my success this time are these:

• 

  11/18/24 photo reference

  The journal sketchbook is my daily-carry. When I had used a larger sketchbook in the past, my intention was to work on sketch journaling in the evening as a way to review and document the day. But that’s the worst time of day for me to do anything creative, and I often didn’t have energy for it. If I carry the journal sketchbook all day, every day, which is my usual habit with any sketchbook, I can almost always make time for a sketch somewhere. And if I haven’t, I can do one in the evening; once in a while doesn’t feel onerous.
  
  
• I use Uglybooks. Colored paper encourages me to sketch because the color is already there. Somehow even a basic line drawing carries more weight on colored paper, which also allows easy toning with white and black. For me, it’s the hands-down most expeditious way to make a sketch. And the A6 size is comfortable without being too daunting to fill. (See end of post for how many I’ve used this year.)
  
  
• I keep the content, format and approach unrestricted. Instead of “forcing” myself to practice drawing from imagination (which I tried to do for a while when I journaled in the evening), I draw in whatever way I want. Most days, I still draw from life on location (which is my go-to for the foreseeable future). But I also draw from photos, imagination and memory, and sometimes I see stories that work as autobiographical comics. I also make no attempt to record everything that happened (which isn’t possible anyway). It’s just my journal: It’s all acceptable, and it all works.
  
  

  

  11/20/24 Sketch notes from a presentation about sleep

  
  
• I decided I don’t have to share everything. Shortly after I began sketching and sharing on social media, I made the decision that I would share everything – the good, the bad, the ugly. It was to make a point. I had noticed that many artists shared only what must be their carefully curated work. Many beginning sketchers saw all those gorgeous drawings – and only gorgeous drawings – and got discouraged rather than inspired. I wanted to show everything so that my process would be clear: It takes a lot of practice to get good, and I’m not there yet, but here I am on my way.

Now that I’ve been sketching for 13 years, I don’t have to keep making that point. I’m still not curating with the intention of showing only the good. But some sketches I make are just for myself because they are personal in content or are meaningful only to me. That’s not the same as “curating”; it’s just keeping my journal private when I want to.

12/13/24 Aegis residents

Unlike reading my written journals (which I rarely do), paging through my sketch journals makes me happy in the way I had always hoped a sketch journal would – reminding me of things I saw and did; of people I socialized with; of the sheer joy of drawing. It’s been a good year.

12/8/24 Carolers performing at Aegis Living

12/14/24 Four Seasons lobby

These are all the Uglybooks I've filled in 2024!

I like this top view better because it shows all the page colors. You can see how the white one buckled when I used watercolor pencils.

Satsuma Season

 

12/15/24 Green Lake neighborhood

11/30/24 Maple Leaf Park

With all the cold, wet, windy weather we’ve been having lately, it’s been a long time since I’ve had the inclination to make a series of sketches while out on a walk. Although still chilly, Sunday was dry and even sunny, which encouraged me to walk down to the Green Lake PCC for a specific errand: Buy a load of tiny, super-sweet satsumas. It’s my favorite winter fruit, and I pop them into my mouth like candy. Sketching along the way was a bonus (above).

Walking under Interstate 5, I passed a number of vehicles that are being used as marginal homes for people who are otherwise unhoused. It made me aware of my privilege and fortune: Shopping at an upscale food store to buy a luxury fruit while others strap their worldly belongings to the top of dilapidated campers and sleep inside.

The rest of the snippets shown here are one-offs from the previous couple of weeks when I was too cold or rushed to stop for more than one sketch. As usual, not much is happening in Maple Leaf – just the way I like it.

12/9/24 I have sketched this huge tree several times, and it is distinctive in that it stays green all year. I recently learned that it is an aptly named Umbellularia californica tree.

12/10/24 Magenta seemed too garish a color for Her Majesty, so I hoped that sketching her negatively might help.

12/11/24 Maple Leaf neighborhood. It was only
2:30 p.m., but the light already looked like the 
golden hour.

12/16/24 Two Teslas on the same street

12/3/24 Maple Leaf Park

Farewell, Middle Fork

 

12/14/24 John Grade's Middle Fork in Seattle Art Museum lobby

In 2017, a remarkable piece was installed in the Seattle Art Museum’s lobby: John Grade’s Middle Fork, a 105-foot-long sculpture hanging from the ceiling. Built with the help of many volunteers, the sculpture is made of thousands of tiny pieces of cedar glued into a horizontal likeness of the tree that inspired it.

Meeting at SAM shortly after Middle Fork was installed, members of USk Seattle had been stunned and awed by its size and scope. Nearly eight years later, it is still no less daunting to sketch, at least for me. Since Middle Fork will come down in February (and returned to the Cascade forest floor near the 140-year-old tree that inspired the work), USk Seattle met in the SAM lobby again for one last chance to sketch it.

Since I had just been given a new Seawhite of Brighton concertina sketchbook, I thought it would be the right format for the 105-foot-long subject. First I filled six panels of the book by looking up at it from the lobby (above).

Then I went up to the second floor and sketched the “trunk” end head-on (I notated the spot in my first sketch where I was standing to make the second).

From upper level

With 15 minutes to fill before the throwdown, I went back down to the lobby near the admissions desk (below). I liked the contrasting patterns of Middle Fork’s organic “limbs” and the power-line-like rope stanchions.

Lobby admissions desk area

Farewell, Middle Fork – you never stopped inspiring awe whenever I visited. And now we are all wondering what kind of spectacular artwork will take your place. It will have large limbs to fill.

Technical note: Although the small concertina is fun for a subject like this, I had a heckuva time using it in my usual way – standing. Since I don’t usually use concertinas, I didn’t think to bring clips, so the book kept unfolding itself from both ends. In addition, while I was sketching across several panels at once, the pages had no support. I sat at one point to activate the watercolor pencils, and even my lap wasn’t firm enough – I need a desk to use it properly. These technical difficulties may curtail my future use of the book on location.

Edmonds Art Adventure

 

12/12/24 Cascadia Art Museum, Edmonds

An article I read recently about different ways to enjoy art museums made a provocative suggestion: Instead of sketching a painting I admire, sketch one that I don’t like. Doing so might increase my appreciation for the work and what the artist was trying to achieve. I had that exercise in mind as I viewed an exhibit at Cascadia Art Museum. Structure and Form: The Art of B. L. Hyde is the Tacoma artist’s first solo exhibition of oil paintings made mostly during the first half of the 20^th century. I picked my least favorite one to sketch (above left), hoping the exercise would make me appreciate it more (not really).

More enjoyable than sketching the art was simply sketching what I saw in the museum space (above right) – a chair, a sculpture, and the kids’ art room beyond.

It's always fun to see an artist's materials and tools as part of an exhibit.

Ali Serra's art at Walnut Street Cafe

I was with Roy and Mary Jean, and the visit to Cascadia was our first stop in an art-and-food-filled day in Edmonds. Next was lunch at Red Twig and then a stop at Walnut Street Café, where my friend Ali Serra has a show of his fun and whimsical robot art (at left).

Finally we ended our Edmonds art adventure with dessert at Canarino Gelato, which is the same gelateria where I enjoyed refreshments during Sketcher Fest. I have fond memories of being Andika Murandi’s workshop assistant outside Canarino on a lovely July day. Seated inside on a rainy afternoon, the vibe was different but still relaxing, and we all enjoyed sketching there (sketches below).

12/12/24 Sketch journal page of my outing with Roy and MJ

Roy surprised Mary Jean and me by giving each of us a small Seawhite of Brighton concertina sketchbook with the idea that we'd use them in round-robin fashion. We each sketch in the book, pass it along to one of the others to sketch in, and so on, repeating the rounds until all the books are full. Eventually the book we started would return to us to keep. Here are my first two sketches.

Omakase

 

12/11/24 Omakase lunch at Moriyama Sushi

The term omakase means, literally, “I’ll leave it to you.” In Japanese cuisine, it means entrusting the chef to prepare a special meal without any choice or substitution – or sometimes even knowledge of what you will receive. The menu is usually based on what’s fresh or featured that day. It’s a pricey and potentially chancy indulgence. I’d only ever had omakase once, and that was in Japan when a relative paid for and made all the meal decisions. That was during my first trip there in 2001, and I think I hadn’t developed my taste for sushi enough to appreciate the meal as much as I would now.

From left: Hokkaido sea urchin, king salmon belly, black sea bream

I’ve always wanted to try it again, but this time I also wanted to sketch the meal. After sketching at Moriyama Sushi last summer and then dining there again with a friend a couple of months ago, I knew that it would be the right place to sketch omakase: It has just the right relaxed, quiet ambiance.

Seated at Moriyama’s sushi bar (which is the best place to be for omakase so you can watch the chef at work and ask questions), I could see chef Richard moving quickly to prepare my nigiri (a slice of fish with a small bite of rice under it), occasionally grabbing a butane torch to sear some fish. He served them to me three at a time, which was an ideal pace for sketching and then eating. (I meant to photograph all nine pieces as they were presented, but I got so excited about the second three that I forgot and scarfed them down immediately after sketching.)

From left: bluefin tuna, Atlantic salmon belly, amber jack

Each nigiri was garnished with a tiny dab of something in a contrasting color that he described, but my food revery kept me from paying much attention to details. I did pay attention to the name of each type of fish as he presented it so that I could label my sketch accurately (and for future reference).

As you might guess, I was plenty full after devouring nine lovely nigiri, but I had just enough space – both in my stomach and on my sketchbook page – for a colorful dessert: One scoop each of ube and matcha flavored mochi ice cream. The long toothpicks are the utensils!

It took me a while to articulate why this style of eating is such a different experience from most: In general, we are all used to being served one main entrée. We take the first delicious bite, and we know we will continue to enjoy it until it’s gone. With a series of sushi being prepared one at a time, each is unique. The one in my mouth is so good that I wish I had another to follow, yet I know it’s the only one I’ll get (at least in that meal). The next one may be as good or possibly even better, but in any case, the one in my mouth will soon be just a happy memory. It’s similar to the way the Japanese anticipate and cherish the brief blossoming of cherry trees each spring: Their beauty is precious because it’s fleeting. That’s what it’s like to eat omakase sushi – fleeting deliciousness.

Mochi ice cream for dessert!

That fantastic meal and sketching it was my reward. Read on to learn why I deserved it:

Even before I had planned my general downsizing project, I knew I had to dispose of Greg’s aged tower PC. Before I could do that, however, I had to go through the hard drive to copy anything I wanted to retain – specifically, all the photos he had taken during the past 20 or so years, especially from our travels. I also needed to go through data files in case any of those had to be retained.

On the face of it, this task seems like it should have been easier than physically sorting numerous file cabinets and bankers boxes full of paper: All I had to do was click on folders and drag them around. Data has no weight or dust. Nonetheless, it felt hugely daunting, and I procrastinated mightily – for 10 months. When I finished cleaning out literally everything else in the office, the only thing left was the elephant in the room.

After all that procrastination, it took me only two days to finish, and most of that time was totally passive: Drag folders and then walk away to do something else while the files took hours to copy (a total of 4 terabytes!). Afterwards I laughed at myself ruefully when I figured I had spent a hundred times more energy and time fussing and procrastinating than I did on completing the task itself! The best part is that now that the room contains nothing but office furniture, I can start moving my studio in.

Between omakase courses, I worked on the sketch journal page below. Initially I had considered putting my journaling on the same page with the omakase, but I knew it would turn into a crowded mess, and those beautiful nigiri deserved their own space on the page.

12/11/24 Moriyama Sushi

Subdued

 

12/10/24 about 7:30 p.m. Maple Leaf neighborhood

The neighbors across the street usually put up excessively garish holiday decorations, but thankfully, they are relatively subdued this year. Perhaps it helped that Thanksgiving and the days following were so cold. They might not be done, though. . . in years past, Thanksgiving weekend was just the beginning, and they would continue to add more decorations as it got closer to Christmas.

Material note: I used Pilot Juice Paint Markers for the lights, and the blobs got away from me in a few places. Like Posca paint markers, these markers require a light, dotting touch – a little too much pressure and pfffllt.

Indifferent

 

This time of year, I tend to make more sunrise skyscapitos than sunsets because the southeastern light catches my eye as I’m finishing breakfast. Since I got rid of most of the livingroom furniture, I can now stand right next to windows that used to have furniture below them, giving me slightly different views. Three of these sunrises include peeks of Mt. Rainier. I still have better views from upstairs (the last one sketched on Dec. 6), but sometimes I like sketching obstructed, peek-a-boo views which emphasize the urban-ness. 

Whether or not utility poles, trees or rooftops are in the way, Her Majesty quietly stands, indifferent.

Graphite for Gilligan’s Island

 

My picks, from top: Dixon's Typhonite Eldorado, Faber-Castell 9000, Staedtler Mars Lumograph. The other two didn't make the cut.

11/27/24 Faber-Castell 9000 8B

Regular readers of this blog know my preoccupation with thinking about what I’d take to Gilligan’s Island. Don’t laugh – when it comes to art supplies, it’s an important question. Although I typically ponder this issue as it relates to my entire sketch kit, which would always certainly include at least one graphite pencil, it was only recently that I began thinking more specifically about which graphite pencil I would take.

The question came up during Pencilvember while I was using a Faber-Castell “Castell” 9000 pencil for a draped scarf study. For a graphite sketch, I typically use one hard grade to begin, then finish with a softer grade. In the case of a full-on, finished drawing, I might use several grades in between. But I was in a hurry that day with only 20 minutes before I had to leave for an appointment, so I tried an experiment: Instead of my typical method, I used only the F-C 9000 in 8B.

I know 8B sounds way too soft, and I thought it would be challenging to draw the initial blocking and lightest values with a pencil that dark. In fact, it is very strangely both hard and soft. While the end result is not as smooth as it might have been had I started with a harder grade, I was happy with it – both the result and the process. Because the entire 9000 range is so hard (compared to any Japanese range and probably even some European ranges), the 8B was suitably hard while also being dark. Huh – I wouldn’t even mind taking it to Gilligan’s Island.

11/29/24 Dixon Typhonite Eldorado 3B

That’s what got me thinking: what other graphite pencils would be good candidates for the “three-hour tour”? Before I get started, let’s consider the criteria:

Multiples and variations must be minimized. Anticipating a potential rescue, the Skipper tells the castaways that they may bring only the “bare essentials” (a term that makes Mrs. Howell gasp and adolescent 1960s viewers titter). Ginger’s 15 evening gowns would not make the cut, and neither would a full range of graphite pencils.

In addition to being compact, each choice must be versatile. If one colored pencil can take the place of two (oooh, bicolors!), that’s great, but if it’s also a watercolor pencil, all the better. The double-sided Viking Verso would be an ideal graphite choice – if only I liked the scratchy graphite.

Practical matters must also be considered. One could make the argument that a clutch and a box of leads in a variety of grades would certainly be a compact graphite set for the island. But how practical would it be to continually change the lead in a clutch while making a drawing? Not at all. I’d be rescued by the time I finished that sketch.

Finally, a subjective criterion is also important. I must enjoy using the pencil, or being stranded for any length of time would be intolerable.

12/1/24 Staedtler Mars Lumograph 2B

With these criteria in mind, I determined that a pencil for Gilligan’s Island must have graphite hard enough to last far beyond that three-hour tour to minimize sharpening, but it must also be soft enough to build darks efficiently. While the result may not be as smooth as using multiple grades, it must be at least adequate. To test the pencils, I made more draped fabric studies using the Field Notes Streetscapes sketchbook.

My top three candidates are the vintage Dixon’s Typhonite Eldorado 3B, the previously mentioned Faber-Castell 9000 8B, and the Staedtler Mars Lumograph 2B. Each is simultaneously hard and dark, making them versatile, compact pencils. The Lumograph is not as smooth and pleasant to use as the Eldorado or 9000, but it does meet the criteria. The Lumograph and the 9000 have the advantage of being readily available almost anywhere (except the Island, of course) compared to the vintage Eldorado (though it can be found often enough on eBay).

12/2/24 Tombow Mono F: Too hard.

Although I had doubts, I tested a long-time favorite pencil to see how it would fare: A Tombow Mono F. Sometimes I start graphite drawings with this F as my first, hardest grade, then finish with a softer grade or two. Unfortunately, it's not soft enough to finish a sketch, at least with my patience level, because it takes too long to build up the darkest darks. (Who’s got that kind of time when there are coconuts to pick?)

My search was by no means exhaustive; I probably have other pencils that would pass the Gilligan test. These were simply the ones that were fresh in my memory from this year’s and last year’s Pencilvember. What are your graphite candidates for Gilligan’s Island?

12/2/24 vintage Eberhard Faber Microtomic 6B: Too soft.

All pencils were freshly sharpened before making the test sketches. This image shows how the points looked after the sketches were finished.