Early Summer Treats

 

6/30/25 Mt. Rainier and The Brothers from Maple Leaf

Our first heatwave of the official summer season was just getting under way. It was an old-school, Seattle-style heatwave – the kind that cools down to the high 50s at night, no matter how hot it gets in the daytime, and lasts only a couple of days. Not that newfangled, triple-digit “heat dome” stuff.

I got out early for my walk to pick up a few groceries. In these parts, it’s a treat to be able to take a walk in a T-shirt (with no other layers!) when the air still has that crisp freshness. Cherries were ripening on the trees, and my neighbors’ Lucifer crocosmia were beginning to bloom.

Crossing the Northeast 80^th Street Interstate 5 overpass, I stopped for my ultimate treat: a view of both Rainier to the south and The Brothers to the west from a single point.

Yes, this is why I live here.

Cars and Community in Greenwood

 

6/28/25 Herkimer Coffee, Greenwood neighborhood

A couple more pups outside Herkimer

As I do every year, I arrived at the Greenwood Car Show by 7:30 a.m. and started the day by walking the entire 20-block length of the show. On that first walk-through, I don’t sketch; I just look and enjoy. Although noisy and heavy with the smell of exhaust, the parade of cars on Greenwood Avenue getting into their spaces is exciting and full of anticipation.

Then I walk halfway back up again to get breakfast at Herkimer Coffee, grab a table outside, and watch the street action unfold (top of post). Over coffee and a scone, I often sketch more dogs than cars, as lots of pups get tethered to the bike racks while their humans go in for sustenance.

By the time USk Seattle meets at 10 a.m., I’m already warmed up and ready for action myself!

Greenwood Car Show

Although I’ve felt for many years that the Greenwood Car Show is my favorite summertime event, I don’t always stop to consider how different it is from other big annual events that roll around this time of year.

What is it about this show that makes it my favorite? Although I do enjoy seeing and sketching classic cars, it’s not just the subject matter. Despite attracting crowds from all over the city, the Greenwood show somehow manages to maintain its neighborhoody feeling. I kept seeing families running into friends there. Cheerful conversations were all around.

The sketch at top right on this page is my favorite this year. Spontaneously, I got the idea to draw the white lines over the black, and I love this look.

Then there’s the whole car enthusiast community: Owners chatting about all the work they’ve done, how long they’ve owned it, and all the cars that came before and after it. As I sketched, I overheard people reminisce about cars they or previous generations once drove, and I did my share of feeling nostalgic, too (I always look for Datsun Z cars of my high school fantasies).

Cars have always been a strong part of American culture, and the Greenwood Car Show drives (ahem) that point home. I’m happy to be part of it every year, catching the stories in my sketchbook.

Ahhh, my high school fantasy cars!

Greenwood Avenue is closed to traffic for the show, but not to this guy's eye-catching vehicle!

On Saturday night, I got some takeout sushi for dinner. Sketchwaiting outside Akebono, I was still in car show mode and gave my own Miata a little sketchbook love. 

Poulsbo

 

6/27/25 Poulsbo and Bainbridge ferry

Right around the time I was trying to channel my inner Virginia Hein at Descanso Garden in L.A., she was moving up here to Washington. Although I missed my chance to sketch with her at one of her favorite hometown locations, I was happy that her move probably meant I’d see her more often now.

Last Friday Roy and I decided it was time to officially welcome her to the Pacific Northwest. Looking at the map to find a location that might be about halfway between Virginia’s new home in Port Townsend and Seattle, I spotted just the right place. Riding a ferry over to the Peninsula, we met her in cheerful Poulsbo for the afternoon. A town that I had not visited in several decades and certainly had never sketched, Poulsbo was new to all three of our sketchbooks.

After a leisurely catch-up lunch, we sketched at the Poulsbo waterfront where we were lucky enough to catch the town’s Makers Faire, an annual arts festival. The town’s Scandinavian heritage was apparent in décor and lore. While Roy sketched from a café, and Virginia painted the low-tide beach, I had a great backstage view of musical duo Lucas Music. At first I thought I should move around to the front and sketch them as part of the audience, but I couldn’t resist being able to put the town buildings in the background.

Musical duo Lucas Music performing at Makers Faire

The market area was unusual in that a glacial erratic boulder was in the middle of it. Though much smaller than the one in Wedgwood, it was still fun for kids to climb.

Makers Faire and ferry

Roy and I also had opportunities to sketch on the short ferry rides between Seattle and Bainbridge.

It was a super-fun time with Virginia that I hope to do again soon and more regularly!

Material note: Feeling the pressure of the ferry schedule, I was rushing a bit to get out the door and inadvertently left behind my entire auxiliary tote bag! In it were a Hahnemuhle sketchbook and Caran d’Ache Neocolor II crayons, which I’ve recently figured out how to use more easily in the field. Although I was momentarily disappointed not to be able to use color, the day turned out gray and drizzly anyway, so my usual daily-carry Uglybook, brush pen and markers worked out just fine.

Welcome to the Pacific Northwest, Virginia!

Reignited

6/20/25 Green Lake

It’s been well over a year since I first became interested in the concept of on-location comics, inspired by Drewscape. Ever since, I’ve been intrigued, challenged and motivated by trying to capture the story of a location with multiple small sketches on a page in comics style. I’ve also enjoyed watching my process evolve into my own current style.

Just lately, though, my interest had started lagging because I felt I had pushed the concept as far as I could go. Whenever I try something new, I seem to eventually hit this point in the process when it starts to feel less challenging, like it’s coming too easily, and then I look around for something new.

5/13/25 Roosevelt neighborhood

This recent YouTube from Drew came just in time. Showing his approach live, he reignited my passion for this unique approach to urban sketching. Once again, he talks about how combining multiple small sketches on a page tells a more complete story of a place than one sketch could. For me (and these are my own thoughts, not his), not knowing what the next sketch might be and not being able to plan it means I have to trust the process. That’s what creates tension and also excites and motivates me to keep going.

Sometimes this approach leads to a dull page without much story, and I’m disappointed. But how is that different from a single sketch turning out less appealing than I had wanted and feeling disappointed by that? It’s exactly the same. I still love the comics approach, and I’m grateful to Drew for once again inspiring me.

Maybe my challenge now is to find a way to push it in a direction that I’m not yet aware of. Or not. In any case, I just have to trust the process. 

4/25/25 Pike Place Market and Seattle Art Museum

Sketch “Go Bag”

A friend recently broke his leg badly enough that he was hospitalized for more than a week. After that, he went to a rehab facility and expects to be there for weeks. Since he lives alone, he has to mend enough to negotiate all the stairs in his house before he can return.

All of that was bad enough, but the part that struck terror in my heart was learning that someone had to collect clothing, toiletries, meds and other essentials from his home for his rehab stay. I imagined trying to instruct a friend how to find my undies (I hope they’re not all in the hamper), flip-flops (not the old black ones but the comfy red ones), tablet (and charger, which is inexplicably stored in the kitchen linen cabinet) . . . I felt faint.

Whenever I read articles about disaster preparedness, they always mention prepping a “go bag” with essentials and basics that can be grabbed easily for a fast getaway. Although I always nodded at that sensible advice, I never heeded it. After hearing about my friend’s experience, though, I realized that it’s not just a disaster like a fire that could make a go bag useful; one never knows when one might suddenly end up in rehab for weeks.

I’m on it: I’m putting together my go-bag. Weeks in rehab without my sketch kit? Talk about a disaster. You can bet the bag will include sketch materials. Stay tuned to find out what I put in.

What would you put in yours?

(Shown in this post are some sketches that were never finished due to unforeseen interruptions. They’re not related to a go bag in any way, except that having to grab one would certainly indicate an interrupted life.)

Change of Plans

 

6/25/25 Richmond Beach neighborhood, Shoreline

When USk Seattle arrived at the garden where we had planned an outing, it was closed. We quickly pivoted to nearby Richmond Beach Saltwater Park, but I was dressed for a wooded, sheltered garden, not the harsh breezes of Puget Sound. I toughed it out for one quick sketch before Natalie and I decided we needed a coffee warmup. Ahhh . . . a hot zebra mocha (dark chocolate and white chocolate) hit the spot.

Rose Garden Compositions

 

6/23/25 Woodland Park Rose Garden

Thumbnail for sketch above

June is typically when the Woodland Park Rose Garden’s blossoms peak. I knew I hadn’t been there in a while, but when I searched my blog, I was surprised to find that it had been three years since the last time. Also surprising was that the USk Seattle outing there had been in October! That was pretty daring to plan a fall outing at a location without cover. If it had rained, maybe I was going to suggest that we all squeeze into the gazebo! Fortunately, no rain was in Monday’s forecast, so I invited Janet, Mark and Roy to join me there.

Flower gardens are always a compositional challenge for me. Although the colorful blossoms are always the eye-catcher, it’s difficult not to end up with a bunch of bright blobs on the page, yet no sense of depth. I noticed that in my 2022 post, I had made thumbnail studies to help me see some compositions before hitting the color. With compositional studies still on my mind, I had the same impulse for this visit, too. I was especially happy that I started with a study for the first sketch (top of post; study at right). In the thumbnail, I had put the gazebo smack-dab in the center of the composition. When I made the larger color sketch, I corrected that.

In the case of the second sketch of the lavender (below), I think I like my thumbnail (below, left) better than the color sketch. It’s a tighter composition without all the grass in front; I should have kept it that way.

Thumbnail for sketch above

We were all surprised to see that many of the roses were already past their peak; they must have bloomed early this year. I also noticed that the topiary trees that I enjoy sketching so much (truth be told, I like them more than roses) were looking quite shaggy compared to previous years. Despite all that, we had a beautiful afternoon at the garden.

I took this photo on Monday... shaggy topiary.

This photo from 2022 shows a tree more
tightly trimmed.

Thirty Squares

 

Quietly and without social media hashtags, I just completed 30 days of 30 compositional studies – all using the square. Prompted by Mark Alan Anderson’s blog post about squares and my previous 30-day compositional challenge a few years ago, this self-challenge turned out to be surprisingly enjoyable and instructive!

I was pleased by this attempt to abstract an interior scene
so that I "saw" the man as a compositional shape instead of a portrait.

I was afraid I’d tire of the square or find it too restrictive. To the contrary, I found it challenging but also versatile and accommodating – no need to decide whether my composition would be in portrait or landscape orientation. When I spotted a view with potential, I just held up my pencil in one direction (either vertically or horizontally), then turned it 90 degrees to see where the square border would fit.

One unexpected outcome was that the challenge gave me opportunities to examine “nothing” interiors to look for compositions that I wouldn’t typically draw. For example, while visiting Greg at Aegis, I often make quick portraits of residents, but they are usually just “floating heads” on the page. With compositions in mind, I detached the face or person and tried to see it as nothing more than a shape, just like the angles of walls or other inanimate objects.

This composition is one of my favorites of the whole
challenge. I could make a painting out it -- if I were 
so inclined, which I never am. ;-)

Another surprise was that the restriction of the square often forced me to crop something in my full view (like half a head or part of a chair), which has always been a challenge for me: If I see the whole thing, I feel compelled to draw the whole thing. These studies were excellent practice in training my eye to create an edge, even if my brain could see the whole.

Finally, I also realized that due to the portrait orientation of my daily-carry Uglybook, I often sketch on the top two-thirds or so of the page. Then I can use the remaining lower space to write journal notations. That’s a square sketch!

Bonus: The small studies were the ideal graphite pencil wannabe testers.

You’ve seen many of the 30 compositions along the way when the sketches were part of other stories. Shown are the remaining studies that weren’t shared earlier. Only two were done from photo references (as noted); the rest were done on location. (A few observations and insights in the cutlines.)

Photo reference

Typically I would draw the whole head of this woman, but the square forced me to see a better composition by including only part of her head.

Photo reference

Not to flatter myself, but I thought this one seemed rather Hopper-esque!