Silhouette

 

11/9/25

A low haze covered the horizon. I was afraid Her Majesty would be hiding behind it, but I crossed the I-5 overpass at Northeast 80^th, just in case. Her silhouette was my reward.

Autumn Walking

10/25/25 This was one of those walks when I told myself
that if the rain stopped, I'd sketch whatever I saw
at that moment.

10/6/25

Some days are wet and blustery, and it’s hard to get out the door. Others are a surprisingly sunny reprieve between days of deluge. Fall is like that in these parts.

11/7/25

A few days ago I was delighted by how much color still remains. After all the rain and wind we’ve been having, much of that color is on the ground instead of in the trees, but some leaves are still hanging on. Since I don’t usually bring a white sketchbook with me on fitness walks, I’m content to simply enjoy the color instead of sketching it.

11/8/25

Photographed on 11/7/25

Bolex H16 Reflex

 

11/6/25 (photo reference)

In the deepest, darkest recesses of the attic were things Greg had shipped here when he initially moved from the Twin Cities. First in the basement and then later in the attic (after the attic was built, along with the second story), the relics from his young adulthood got stored away. Other, newer stuff piled up in front of them until eventually they were completely concealed from view. My archaeological excavation that began a few weeks ago finally unearthed them: Filmmaking equipment in big, heavy cases.

With an art degree in cinematography, he made numerous short films in the ‘70s with a camera that was old even back then: a Swiss-made Bolex H16 Reflex. According to Wikipedia, the model was first produced in 1956.

Hauling the leather case out, I couldn’t believe how heavy it was – more than 11 pounds! How in the world did filmmakers carry and use cameras like that? I started remembering stories he had told about all the equipment that was necessary even for a short film (and a small crew of friends just to haul it all).

The burden I felt then was not just of his history; I also felt the weight of his dream unfulfilled. He had always wanted to continue making films, but all the usual grownup barriers got in the way: The need for income; lack of time, money and space for production; lack of energy once the day job work was done.

I didn’t feel ready to get rid of the camera, but what would I do instead? I certainly didn’t want to leave it in the attic. Display it in the house (and worry about it getting dusty)? Maybe if I sketched it first, I’d feel better?

The thought I kept coming back to was that the object itself meant nothing to me. Although it was obviously a cool-looking antique, I wasn’t interested in drawing all those tiny knobs and levers. The camera was only important to me because I knew what it meant to Greg.

I took the camera with me on my next visit. He recognized it immediately as he fiddled with the mechanical parts. I asked him to tell me about it, but he doesn’t articulate much anymore. It was enough for me, though, to see him hold and recognize it one last time.

It was the closure I needed. Now I can let it go.

Pencilvember, Week 1

reference photo by Frank Koyama

In my early years of participating in drawing challenges like InkTober (which I’ve been doing annually since 2015) and Pencilvember, it was enough to simply use the challenge medium for a month without a theme. Back then, I tried to do each day’s drawing from life, which was often the most challenging part during wet autumns. Eventually I relented and started drawing from reference photos, and then it became advantageous to have a theme (like mouths or ears) so that I didn’t spend so much time looking for images. But the last few years, I’ve felt vaguely dissatisfied because I wasn’t challenged enough.

As I confirmed during InkTober last month, now I enjoy this type of challenge more when I have a specific learning goal as well as a theme. I’m finding it true this month, too, as I finish up Week 1 of Pencilvember!

I went over my 20-minute limit with Boots, but the result is my favorite tabby cat sketch so far. I often end up feeling like I belabor cat drawings trying to get enough detail to indicate their breed, but Boots came out just right in 25 minutes or so.

In fact, my goal is the same but with a colored pencil instead of a brush pen: Practice making pet portraits efficiently and expressively with less emphasis on resemblance (which had always been the goal with my time-consuming, detailed commissioned portraits). Since pencils are a slower medium than brush pens, I’m trying to finish each sketch in 20 minutes or less (instead of 10 minutes for brush pens). Although my main subject is still pets, I’m also branching out to include wild animals (another stretch, since I’m not familiar with the general proportions of wildebeests as I am with dogs!).

Colored pencils are intrinsically time consuming, so the only way to capture an expression or gesture in 20 minutes is to use the scribbly, messy hatching style I learned a few years ago from France Van Stone. I hadn’t used that method much since that time, so Pencilvember is a great opportunity to practice again.

One thing that has made the challenge especially fun also has an important purpose: I’m deliberately using vivid, unnatural hues to prevent me from falling into the “realistic” trap of trying to match the animal’s colors.

Reference photo by Frank Koyama

To really push this, I got out my favorite Camel rainbow pencil – which turns out to have an unexpected superpower! After drawing a rough contour, I color it lightly all over (except highlights) with the rainbow pencil. Then I use dark individual colored pencils to work on values. The superpower is that the rainbow pencil acts as a subtle, vari-colored “underpainting,” if you will, and I’m digging that slightly shimmery effect.

For Week 1 I used Prismacolors, one of my favorite pencils for their softness (which is ideal for speed). My plan is to use a different colored pencil brand each week.

As much as I love brush pens, it feels so good to have a pencil in my hand again!

(As with InkTober, most of my Pencilvember reference photos are from previous commissions. The exceptions are the wild animals that my brother, Frank Koyama, photographed during an expedition in Kenya last month.)

Among the most challenging reference 
photos is all-white Cuppa Joe photographed
with dim backlighting. With him and the lion
at right, photographed in flat light, I
used a yellow pencil to remind me where the
light would be if I could see it better.

Reference photo by Frank Koyama. It was interesting to
observe the ways in which the features and proportions
of domestic cats differ or are similar to this wild relative.
For example, the lion's pupils are round instead of 
marquise-shaped.

The Last Space

About 20 years ago, I was making abstract paintings, collages and fiber works to sell in group shows and galleries. Everything had to be ready to hang to show, so I started using three-dimensional canvas-covered boards that didn’t need expensive glass framing. I sold some, but not enough to make a dent in my sizeable collection. They took up a lot of space.

After I decided to stop selling, I stashed them all. I didn’t have a plan, but I also wasn’t ready to dump them.

This week I began tackling the last space needing downsizing during Phase 3: The small attic behind my original studio where that old work has been all this time. One thing I’ve learned from downsizing these past two years is that much of what I held onto decades ago is now easy to let go of. I unceremoniously added the artwork to the heap that will be hauled away by my junk guy next week.

As the heap grew, I realized I still appreciate the process that was behind the work – without having to keep the work itself. That’s what made it easy to dump it. Making the work brought me to where I am today and will continue taking me on my creative journey. Whether that work exists is not related to the growth it represents. It was a good feeling to acknowledge that.

Actually, I didn’t get rid of everything. I saved four collages that I still like and that have meaning for me. Instead of putting them back in the attic, I went through the house and took down some other old collages that I had tired of long ago. I tossed those and replaced them with the ones I hadn’t seen in decades. They seemed fresh again.

Reddest

 

11/4/25 Maple Leaf neighborhood

Just when I thought leaf-peeping season was winding down, I got a hot tip right in my own ‘hood. Seeing that the intersection was within walking distance, I bundled up for temps in the mid-40s and took a hike. I could spot its brilliance from a block away: possibly the reddest maple I’d ever seen in these parts, and certainly this season!

Halfway through, it started drizzling, so I was hasty, but I was determined to try to capture that color to document it for my own future reference. Despite my efforts, I didn’t do it justice, so I’m also including photos below for your leaf-peeping pleasure. Photographed with no filters!

Glimmers

 

After seven months in assisted living, Aegis staff had recommended that Greg move to the memory care area, where the caregivers would be better able to care for his changing needs. He’s been there for more than a year now. The memory care unit is small (about a dozen residents), so it feels more home-like and less institutional than many such places. Since the residents share a single common area when they aren’t in their own apartments, it’s easier to get to know everyone over time.

10/8/25

10/14/25

Although I don’t often interact with them directly, I learn a lot just by observing. Like Greg, many started out on the assisted living side and eventually moved into memory care, so I had initially met them when they were more able to do things on their own. Seeing them decline and lose skills and abilities is expected, but no less heartbreaking – just as it is with Greg.

10/20/25

10/26/25 After buying a new Pentel Pocket Brush Pen
identical to the one I've used for years, I discovered that
the waterproof black ink cartridges that come with it look a lot
like Platinum Carbon Black -- except that it bleeds and feathers
on Uglybook paper, which Platinum never does.

It’s heartening, though, when a resident who is usually unresponsive suddenly “wakes up” with a glimmer of their former selves, even briefly. One resident whom I had never seen smile suddenly did recently – in response to something a visitor had said. I’ve also seen one resident respond to music by dancing or tapping when they don’t respond to anything else.

I find myself sketching at Aegis a lot more now than I used to. Shown here are only a few of the many sketch journal pages I’ve filled with people I am getting to know by observation.