Jason’s House

 

8/14/25 Los Angeles (photo reference)

When I visited my nephew Jason at his newish home in L.A. last April, I took photos with the intention of drawing the house as a gift. A beautiful Hacienda style house with classic white stucco walls and red clay roof tiles, it’s quintessential in southern California, yet rarely seen in these parts. I was looking forward to drawing it.

Strangely, I procrastinated for months. If I had spotted his house while out sketching on location, I would not have hesitated. Yet something about using a reference photo and with the intention of making a gift intimidated me. When I’m urban sketching, I give myself constant permission to be wonky because I’m just trying to capture the moment for myself. When I’m using a photo in the comfort of my studio, I feel like the result has to be more polished because I can tweak it all I want and have no excuse for wonkiness. How silly!

I was tired of having the project hanging over my head. After I finished the last of the commissioned dog portraits, I decided it was time to take on Jason’s house. And the way I psyched myself out was by pretending I was just out urban sketching.

Barely visible, here's the graphite block-in.

Of course, almost nothing I did was similar to my typical urban sketching process: First, I began by blocking in key architectural points with a graphite pencil. On location, I would have gone straight in with the Caran d’Ache Neocolor II crayons, and if I made a mistake, I would have simply found a way to cover it up. I also used larger paper (10-by-7 inches) than my usual sketchbooks. At least one of the Neocolor techniques I used (description coming up) is something I doubt I’d use on location. Finally, with a comfy chair in a clean, organized studio, I happily spent more than a couple of hours on this sketch – something I would never do onsite.

Once I put myself in the urban sketching mind frame, I got over the barrier and enjoyed the process immensely. In fact, I am very pleased with the result – more so than I usually am with architectural subjects. (For example, I didn’t especially like the result of the house portrait I made for my niece and her husband seven years ago; it’s interesting to see how different my approach was then.) It feels good to give this as a gift.

Secondary triad palette in Neocolor II water-soluble crayons

Material and technique notes: The moment I looked at my reference photo, I realized it was shouting for a secondary triad! I dug through my Neocolor II crayons to look for a triad that wasn’t too garish or vibrant (not my nephew’s vibe) but also wouldn’t be too literal. I like the four colors I chose (I added a second green) so much that I immediately put them into my Neocolor case for field use (and used the same colors the next day at Third Place Commons).

In particular, I like Aubergine (099) as the violet. It’s the warmest and least saturated violet in the Neocolor palette, and unfortunately, not available in the Cd’A Museum Aquarelle pencil line, or I would have discovered it sooner. It is, however, available in the Cd’A Supracolor line. To avoid getting lost in picky details, I resisted using the Aubergine pencil too much. Some architectural details, however, seemed important to include, like the sconce next to the entryway and the subtle gridwork of tiny “windows” in the wall seen between the palms. Those were too small to capture easily with blunt crayons, so it was nice having a pencil in the same hue.

Detail of shadows made with watercolor painting method

I used a technique that I rarely, if ever, use on location: I applied dry Aubergine and Moss Green (225) onto the plastic “palette aquarelle” that came with my Cd’A Mixed Media Botanical Set. I used a waterbrush to blend the colors to the shade of purplish-brown I wanted. Then I applied it just like watercolors.

That technique is not too different from the “licked” technique I use frequently with watercolor pencils, but since I’m taking the color from the plastic palette instead of directly from the crayon, I have the opportunity to blend the colors.

I could have used real watercolors for this step, but a big benefit of using the same water-soluble crayons is that the color scheme remains fully cohesive compared to using many different media. I know using mixed media is cool, but I prefer keeping things simple.

Finally, a word on the paper I used: Derwent Inktense Paper. A counterpart to the Derwent Lightfast Paper that I’ve lately been using with colored pencil pet portraits, Inktense paper is intended for use with wet media, especially Inktense pencils. Like the Lightfast paper, I bought the pad of Inktense paper years ago but never got around to using it – it was still shrink-wrapped.

Its warm tone seemed just right for southern California stucco, and its strong tooth gives an organic texture to the foliage with soft Neocolors. It’s 100 percent cotton like the Hahnemühle sketchbooks that I’m used to, so I felt comfortable with its sizing right away. It’s too bad this paper is so expensive – I’d be tempted to stitch a few sheets into small signatures for more portable use. I’ll probably save it for gifts and commissions.

In the Wild

10/25/23 Ravenna neighborhood

While I enjoy sketching pumpkins and other Halloween decorations at Swansons Nursery, I find I rarely sketch them “in the wild.” On this cold morning, however, the rain had stopped and the clouds suddenly broke open to spill light on these orange characters on a Ravenna neighborhood porch. They were asking to be sketched.

Happy Halloween! And may all your treats be Snickers.

Metro Market Maples (and My Dry Pencil A-Ha Moment)

 

9/25/23 Metro Market parking lot, Wedgwood neighborhood

The slender parking-lot maples at Metropolitan Market are on my annual leaf-peeping tour because they often turn a brilliant, fiery red or at least bright orange and yellow. But this year they seem to be dull brownish-orange, and some are half-bare already. Our dry summer took its toll on trees.

My pencil a-ha moment: Last year I went through a couple of phases when I wanted to use dry colored pencils to work on specific experiments, like optical color mixing and secondary triads. In the field, however, I always feel like they are slower and less efficient to use than watercolor pencils: Activating them with water is the fastest, most efficient way to intensify color. And yet I’d like to learn to be more efficient with dry colored pencils because I’m so intrigued by their optical-mixing potential (an effect that gets lost when colors blend fluidly).

So I’m in that phase again. Since we have begun moving head-on into the rainy season, I’ll be sketching more from my mobile studio and coffee shops, which is a good opportunity to bring along different media. I filled my larger Sendak pencil roll with a careful selection of 13 Caran d’Ache Luminance and Derwent Lightfast colored pencils. To select colors, I used the same strategy as for my daily-carry watercolor pencils (described in my recent sketch kit update post).

This is the way the sketch looked before
I intensified the colors later at home.

When I stopped working on the sketch at left (from my mobile studio in the rain), I was disappointed by the wimpy colors and contrasts. Using an A6-size Uglybook (in white! Shocking, right?), I worked for about as long as I usually do in an A6 Hahnemühle with watercolor pencils, but I couldn’t get the colors to be as intense without the extra umph of water that I’ve come to depend on.

Normally I don’t fuss with a sketch after I leave the location, but the pencils had put me in experimental mode: Using the same pencils at home, I hit the page hard with color (never recommended, by the way, by colored pencils artists) until I got the degree of intensity and contrast I wanted (top of post) – and it only took another minute or two! Why couldn’t I do that in the car?

The answer is that at home, I had a hard desk surface, which made it much easier to apply color with the pressure I needed. My Hahnemühle has a hardcover, which gives me the same support while standing. But the Uglybook has a softcover, and in the car I didn’t have a hard surface for support. Although I use Uglybooks constantly while standing, I almost always use markers, which don’t require pressure. A-ha – a light bulb moment!

I looked around and found a small clipboard of the right size – and like the Uglybook, it fits in the Sendak’s largest pockets. Now I have a firm surface like a desk to slam the color down hard. Let’s see if this is the trick I need to make dry pencils work for me on location. If it does, I’ll look forward to brightening the blah, wet weather ahead with optical color mixing experiments.

Sendak fully loaded in my mobile studio.

The Little Beautiful Bridge

 

8/8/23 The Little Beautiful Bridge, Montlake neighborhood

Running an errand in the Montlake neighborhood, I drove under an old bridge flanked by globe lights. Seattle has a number of bridges in this style, including one that goes over the Washington Park Arboretum and the one I’ve sketched several times in the Queen Anne neighborhood. Although I couldn’t find any historical information on this one, I think they were all built around the turn of the 20th century.

After the errand, I turned around to find a vantage spot to sketch the bridge. I was surprised to see cars occasionally driving on it . . . it looks like it should be too fragile to support cars anymore (the one over the Arboretum is for pedestrians only). I learned that it is called The Little Beautiful Bridge, and indeed, it is.

By the way, my moment of pride was preserving that tiny bit of white on the globe lamp and post surrounded by dark foliage, which I spritzed to activate. (The pride is not so much in the result as in remembering this trick!) Here’s how I did it: First I used a waterbrush to carefully activate the dark green immediately surrounding the lamp. After that dried completely, I could spritz the rest of the foliage liberally. Since the pigment around the lamp had already been activated, it didn’t re-activate, and the globe and post stayed relatively white.

This is a trick I started using with Derwent Inktense to take advantage of its “permanent” quality; however, this pencil was a Caran d’Ache Museum Aquarelle, and it worked just as well here.

In Praise of Trees

7/30/23 Wedgwood neighborhood

 While working on a sketch reportage project (which will likely be revealed soon), I have been doing some research that has raised my previously vague awareness of the benefits of trees. I think we all know that trees take in carbon dioxide from the atmosphere, and I’ve certainly been grateful for the shelter of trees while sketching. But I did not know that in one year, a single large tree can provide as much cooling as 10 air conditioners running continuously. In poorer neighborhoods where fewer trees grow, the temperature can be significantly higher than in neighborhoods where plenty of old trees provide shade.

Standing in the shade of one tree to sketch these other shade-providing trees, I praise all trees for the services they provide to us on planet Earth.

Green Lake, Sunny and Not

7/4/23 Green Lake

As a Seattle native who remembers many Fourths of July watching fireworks dressed in a raincoat or fleece parka, I still laugh ruefully at the local joke that summer begins on the fifth of July. This year, however, summer began at least a week earlier, and the Fourth was actually hot and sunny. Walking around Green Lake early to beat the heat, I made the sketch at right. Usually I like to use a primary triad on sunny days because bright yellow is an easy way to give the tops of trees a splash of sunshine, but this time I thought I’d try it with a secondary triad instead. Th result looks less sunny than I wanted, even though I tried to play up the bright yellow-green in the treetops. 

A few days later, our brief heatwave broke, and I needed to wear a hoodie at cloudy Green Lake. An overcast sky usually prompts me to bring out my secondary triad, but following the lead of my previous sketch, I went the other way and used a primary triad instead (below). The sketch does look sunnier than the morning actually was; in fact, I love using this CMY triad in the summer just because it does tend to come off as effortlessly sunny. The darkest areas beneath the shoreline trees might look like shadows (implying sunshine), but they are also reflections, which are always dark.

It’s endlessly fascinating to me how both hues and values play a part in evoking light. Reversing my go-to triads pushed me to think about that instead of coloring on auto-pilot.

7/7/23 Green Lake

Warm, Cool and a Lesson Remembered

 

7/3/23 Northgate

This type of apartment/condo building is all over Northgate – modern, boxy, and generally not of much interest to me to draw. I say that, and yet on this particular morning, I immediately spotted an opportunity to play with warm and cool tones (the building’s actual hues are pale coral and grays, which seems to be a favored palette for contemporary architecture). That’s as good a reason as any to sketch when it’s 69 degrees and sunny.

This year is the 10th anniversary of the Urban Sketchers Symposium in Barcelona, which was the first of six I have attended. I’m sure it will seem incongruous, but as I sketched this building, I recalled a Gothic church during Inma Serrano’s workshop. She came by to see how I was doing, and I jokingly complained that I had finished the fun part and didn’t want to draw the rest of the building. “Don’t draw it, then!” she said. “Draw only the part that interests you!” As a newbie sketcher, it had not occurred to me that I don’t have to include everything I see. What a liberation! (This post shows the sketch I made then.) This is my thank you to Inma and other symposium instructors whose lessons stay with me a decade later.

Columbia City Street Corner

 

6/17/23 Columbia City

South Seattle’s Columbia City neighborhood has traditional clocks and globe lamps on the sidewalks. The very first time I sketched in Columbia City was 11 years ago with USk Seattle. I knew that I had sketched a clock and lamp post that time too, but I couldn’t remember which intersection it was. I just looked back at my blog, and wouldn’t you know – it’s the same corner! I guess the things that appeal to me haven’t changed. Just for fun, I’m including that sketch below.

Technical note: When I was finishing the sketch, I used a bit too much water spritzing the background trees, so I took out a paper towel to dab the excess water. As an experiment, I started rubbing instead of dabbing, which smudged the color into a blurry, drab, grayish-brown that matched the gloomy, overcast day. It’s not a pretty color, but it’s one reason I love the secondary triad so much: Even grayish-brown can have interesting green and purple tones. I liked the overall tonal rather than textural quality, so I did the same thing elsewhere in the background where I wanted to blur the marks while also darkening the values.

10/21/12 Eleven years later, I'm still drawn to the same street corner (though I think my eye for composition has improved a bit).

Green Lake Bar & Grill

5/22/23 Green Lake Bar & Grill, Green Lake neighborhood

It’s been years since I last ate at the Green Lake Bar & Grill, mainly because I wasn’t impressed with the food that time. According to the yellow banner under the awning, they have “The World’s Best Milkshakes,” which I wouldn’t know about. However, I do like their bright yellow umbrellas, which previously made an appearance in a sketch when they were all open. On this overcast morning, only one was open, making a nice counterpoint to the row of closed ones.

Unfinished in Five (Plus Another Inktense Redux)

4/19/23 Green Lake neighborhood

“When is a sketch done?” On her blog, Suhita Shirodkar recently asked that question and tried to answer it for herself. She likes to bring a sketch to a stage that, if she doesn’t have time to work further, it still looks finished. Then if she has more time, she might add color and details that give the sketch a different look – what she calls “a new avatar.”

Although at first glance Suhita’s method might seem similar to that of sketchers who use the “coloring book method” – make a line drawing first and color it in afterwards, sometimes after they’ve left the scene – her first stage is more than a line drawing. She puts in values and indicates enough compositional depth that it feels complete.

After describing her interesting process, she invited readers to leave a comment about how they answer that question. I wrote, “If it’s a sketch on location, then it’s done when I leave the location. Even if it feels ‘unfinished’ (I got interrupted or didn’t have time to do something I wanted to do), I don’t add more later. I kind of lose momentum and even motivation if I’m no longer at the location.”

I can count on one hand the times I’ve finished a sketch after I’ve left the scene (I recall one I made about a year ago). If I used the “coloring book method,” I think I might be more inclined to finish a sketch afterwards. Even so, my motivation is usually gone.

Unfinished stage reached on location in 5 minutes.

Coincidentally, the day after I read her post, I found myself with exactly five minutes to make a sketch before I had to leave for an appointment. (Yes, a more reasonable sketcher might have decided it wasn’t enough time and not attempted it, but apparently that’s not me.) Grabbing my secondary triad pencils so that I wouldn’t have to think about local color, I quickly blocked in the composition and the values (at right). I snapped a photo in case I needed it, then left for my appointment on time.

Unlike Suhita’s ink and graphite stage, I don’t consider this sketch done – it was definitely unfinished when I left the scene. But because I had put in the necessary information, I didn’t have to look at the photo. All it took was an additional five minutes at home to add more color and use a little water to intensify the pigments. It was a rare case of finishing a sketch later, but that’s because I had done the important parts – the composition and reminders of the values – on location. The end of my first stage didn’t look finished as Suhita’s did, but I think we are using the same principles.

Pencil notes: A couple of keenly observant Instagram followers noticed immediately when I showed my on-location photo: I used Derwent Inktense for this sketch instead of my usual Caran d’Ache Museum Aquarelles! Whaaat??! I’ll talk more about why in a future post, but I’m giving Inktense – a pencil I haven’t given much love to in the past – another try. And I’m all in this time: I removed all the Museum Aquarelles from my bag and replaced them with Inktense so that I wouldn’t be tempted to grab the Museums.  

The skeptical side of me wonders how long it will be before I switch back. But another part of me has always wanted to love Inktense. Like a “complicated” relationship, I keep going back, despite being disappointed repeatedly.

Trash Day Mutterings

 

2/23/23 Maple Leaf neighborhood

It was 31 degrees and overcast on trash day. I had no intention of sketching outdoors, but on my way home from an appointment, I pulled over in the neighborhood to make this sketch from my car. Here are a few things I muttered about to myself that day:

Values: When I scanned the image (below), I realized that my darkest values were a bit wimpy. After those experiments in January, I had sort of forgotten about using a Faber-Castell Pitt Artist Brush Pen as a color-based “grisaille,” which I think would have helped this composition without strong lighting or shadows. But it wasn’t too late: I got out a dark violet Pitt pen and darkened a few spots in the sketch, and I think it’s better now (top of post). I have to remember to use it when I need to.

Wimpy values (without the Pitt pen).

Sketchbook size: I’ve made only a few sketches in it so far, but my new A6 Hahnemühle sketchbook is giving me a lot more freedom to use color spontaneously because it stays with me in my small fitness-walking Rickshaw bag. I tend to take the small bag almost everywhere now, not just on walks, because it’s so much lighter and slimmer than my long-time daily-carry larger Rickshaw. In other words, my fitness-walking bag has become my daily-carry.

The only times I still use my larger Rickshaw are when I plan to use my A5 Hahnemühle sketchbook. If it weren’t for that, I probably would have switched to the smaller bag full-time long ago. I’ve enjoyed using the A6 book enough so far that I’ve started wondering if it could become my full-time sketchbook? An A6 page spread opens to the size of an A5 when I want more space (though I’d have to contend with the gutter, which I don’t enjoy doing).

A6 vs. A5: Can I stand the smaller real estate full-time?

Whoa, switching full-time to a pocket-size sketchbook would be quite a shift for me. I guess the only way to find out is to carry only the small A6 the next time I think I would prefer my larger A5 and see how it goes.

Fat (and Sugar) Tuesday

2/21/23 Top Pot Doughnuts, Wedgwood neighborhood

Fat Tuesday was a good excuse to have a donut. The Wedgwood Top Pot was almost as quiet as the last time I was there, but I didn’t mind: The one patron who stayed long enough to sketch was beautifully backlit by the large front window. A high window on his right side complicated the lighting on his back, but I enjoyed the challenge.

I wish I could have worked on this guy
more, but he got away too fast.

An apple fritter and colored pencils... does it get any better?

This sketch also became a lesson in using watercolor pencils. As my primary color medium for going on seven years, watercolor pencils should be second nature to me by now, and yet they still present surprising challenges at times. I knew I wanted to leave the color on the man unactivated because I prefer the subtle gradations I can get with dry pencils (like that subtle shift on the back of his head). But to make the slivers of backlighting stand out on the left side of his face and shoulder, I had to intensify and darken the background bookshelves. 

When I activated the books with water, though, they stood out too strongly, so I had to go back in and intensify everything with more dry pigment. Ultimately, I think the whole sketch improved with my being “forced” to add more color, but it was one of those humbling moments when I see that I am still not a master of my medium and always have more to learn.

Secondary Triad Portraits

 

2/18/23 Derwent Lightfast pencils in Stillman & Birn Zeta sketchbook 

After making that portrait of Gabi with a secondary triad (which was mostly a whim), I got interested in the idea of trying more portraits with secondaries (the first three shown here). It brought back to mind the color temperature concepts I learned from Sarah Bixler more than a year ago.

Obviously, the secondary triad hues are difficult (and generally unflattering) to use for skin tones, especially green, but let’s be honest – the portrait practice I’ve been doing is not with the intention of flattering the models! Once I let go of the zombie potential, I started becoming fascinated with mixing interesting neutrals and trying to convey values based on color temperature. All three of these Earthsworld reference photos were taken in flat lighting, which made them even more challenging. On the other hand, the absence of sharp shadows and strong highlights gave me more opportunities to work on subtle value shifts based on color temperature.

2/19/23 Lightfast pencils in S&B Zeta sketchbook

My general approach is to begin with the lightest/warmest value (orange) to block in the large shapes and features lightly and to color the overall face. Then I use the darkest/coolest value (violet) to gradually darken values. Finally, I mix in green in some areas to continue neutralizing the hues. The greens I’ve chosen in these three examples are cool – close to my urban sketching “cool” secondary triad for winter – so it’s in between warm orange and cool violet, but closer to violet.

2/19/23 Bic ballpoints and Walnut Hollow pencil in Uglybook

The weirdest mixed-media attempt is at right: Bic ballpoint with colored pencil! I don’t normally mix ballpoint with pencil – to me, they are the wrong textures to combine – but my motivation was less than inspirational. It was a late-evening sketch, and my “downstairs studio” contained purple and green Bics, but the orange was upstairs. What the heck – I grabbed a convenient orange pencil. Laziness is the mother of creativity.

Most of the other portraits in this post (all references by Earthsworld) were made in my more conventional manner with two colors – a cool and a warm or a light and a dark – which is the simplest way to make value studies of faces.

2/13/23 Faber-Castell Pitt Artist brush pen and
Walnut Hollow colored pencils in Uglybook 

2/13/23 Walnut Hollow colored pencils in Uglybook

As for resemblance, I find I still grapple with my own need for it. When I try a looser approach, such as the long-haired man below, it’s at the expense of likeness. When I’m “tight,” I have a better chance of capturing resemblance (most of these are not too bad in that regard). I keep telling myself that resemblance is not the only goal for portraiture and that I shouldn’t care so much about it, but then I do. It’s hard to let go.

2/13/23 Pitt Artist pen, Walnut Hollow colored pencils
in Uglybook

Looseness at the expense of resemblance.

2/15/23 Conte pastel pencils in Uglybook

Probably my best capture of resemblance among the examples
shown here, but also one of the "tightest."

Unidentified at Green Lake

2/15/23 Green Lake Park

Although this is one of my simplest compositions of them, I’ve sketched these trees at Green Lake Park many times. This sketch from 2015 shows the whole row of them. One of my better compositions, this one is from 2020; I sketched it from the best window at Starbucks. When I sketched them in 2016, I was with USk Seattle. And here’s another from 2020 that shows more detail of their knotty trunks.

They are among my favorite trees at the park and possibly among my favorites in the whole city, but I have yet to find out what kind they are. The city parks department has published a map of the major trees growing around the lake’s periphery, but these trees are at the edge of the park a distance from the lake itself, so they aren’t included on the map. This spring when their leaves return, I’ll take some photos to help me identify them once and for all.

Color and paper notes: This simple sketch shows why I love a secondary triad so much. There was a time when I would have used some generic brown to draw tree trunks. With a secondary triad in my palette (and in my brain), look at that lively neutral mix I got from dark violet and orange! It’s hard to ever go back to brown.

Someday soon I'll ID these lovely trees.

As for paper, I wanted to show some bark texture, and since it was only 41 degrees out, I wanted to do it quickly. Having my new A6-size Hahnemühle in my walking bag made that easy – the toothy texture was just right, and so was the page size. In 10 minutes, I was done.

Gabi on the Reportage Experience

 

2/16/23 Gabi on Zoom talking about sketch reportage

Since last summer, Gabi Campanario has been publishing a Substack newsletter called On the Spot, which focuses on reportage sketching. His first Zoom presentation exclusive to paying subscribers was all about his decade-plus of weekly reportage experience for The Seattle Times.

Although we think of the art in the forefront of reportage illustration, he stressed the importance of writing, which supports the sketch in telling the complete story. Using three specific reportage examples, he shared in-depth details about how he got the ideas and how he planned and conducted research before sketching. “It’s not sketching in the park with a friend,” he said. While covering the story, “you are always ‘on’,” working in sometimes intense or rapidly changing conditions that require flexibility. He also offered practical advice to wannabe reportage artists, such as knowing where to find a restroom when you need a break. He often spent as long as five hours at a time on location covering a story or went back a second day to finish the work.

As a journalist, he can’t cover a story just because it’s interesting to him. He must always be aware of why the story would be of interest to his readers. To be newsworthy, a story must also be timely. He continually asks himself, “Why should readers care? So what? Why now?” He keeps that focus firmly in mind while he’s on location because it’s easy to get distracted.

Using the example of the historic Elephant Car Wash sign, he said the story was not just a sketch of the beloved, iconic sign itself. “I’m always looking for the context.” In this case, it was about growth in the South Lake Union area and the car wash’s closure.

More than 30 of his worldwide paying subscribers joined what he called his “brown bag presentation” (around lunchtime Seattle time). Based on their questions, some were already working sketch journalists themselves, while others hoped to bring their urban sketching to the next level. Still others, like me, simply wanted to learn more about sketch reportage while supporting Gabi’s latest ventures. (Of course, I had the ulterior motive of a portrait practice opportunity.)

As a long-time fan of his weekly Seattle Times column (who was very sad when he finally retired the column a couple of years ago), I was impressed to learn that he had published a total of 989 columns during The Seattle Sketcher’s career! That’s a lot of reportage!

Gabi plans to offer monthly presentations to his supporters on various reportage topics.

Derwent Lightfast secondary triad

Palette notes: What do you think of the secondary triad I chose for this portrait of Gabi? I’ve used a more saturated “summer” secondary triad to sketch portraits in the past, but this time I thought I’d try a more subdued trio using Derwent Lightfast pencils: Olive Earth, Mars Orange and Violet. It’s similar to the “winter” secondary triad I’m using now for urban sketching except the green is warmer. I started to use a bit of the green on his face, but I pulled back when I didn’t like the mix (and I think the orange and violet alone made a vibrant neutral for facial tones). Next time I might go with a cooler green and see how that works on faces as well as trees.

Process notes: I think this was my first opportunity to sketch someone live on Zoom (I don’t count my selfie) since I started practicing portraiture last fall. A moving, talking person is not as easy to sketch as a reference photo, but I realized that all the practice I’ve done from photos certainly helped a lot. I’ve gotten used to eyeballing proportions without measuring (which is hard to do when the model is constantly moving his head), and I knew where to look for key facial planes to block in the face quickly. I don’t know if Gabi’s wife Michelle or his mother would agree, but I think I captured some likeness. (Well, I may have given him a few extra pounds. Sorry, Gabi.) Ideally, this is the way I’d love to be able to sketch any portrait: From a live model who isn’t necessarily posing but maybe just talking naturally as I sketch. After all, that’s how a reportage sketcher would do it.

Violet Sky

2/14/23 Green Lake

My weekly walking partner and I had been touring other neighborhoods the past couple of months, but we’re back on track now at Green Lake. Despite the dusting of snow Tuesday morning (which thawed before noon), the sun was supposed to make an appearance by afternoon. I arrived a few minutes early for our walk to make this sketch from my parking spot facing the lake.

Palette notes: After last fall’s secondary triad experiments, I have continued to stay with secondaries for the most part. Their subdued mixes work well for winter’s somber hues. In fact, I removed the warmer secondary hues from my kit and have been using a cool secondary triad. However, I also added a few more colors to make a full palette, but it’s definitely not a random rainbow. As I pondered in November, my satisfaction with secondary triads made me think I could go most of the year with that scheme if I added a CMYK-based primary triad for the summer months.

Somewhere around that time I landed on the palette shown here as my daily-carry, and it has been serving me well: a cool secondary triad, a CMYK primary triad, and my convenience “heavy equipment yellow.” I think I’d be happy with this palette year-round (though I’d probably switch to a warmer secondary in summer).

All colors are Caran d'Ache Museum Aquarelle

A sketch like the one above always presents a challenge: When I decide to use a secondary palette, I like to stay with it and avoid bringing in other hues. The cyan in my palette is wrong for another reason – it’s a summer-sky blue, which just isn’t right for winter. That means the sky must be violet. This literal colorist still needs to pause for a second before making the sky purple, but it’s good for me to get this shove. And I never regret the result.

By the way, the credit for those clouds (a happy accident) goes to the Hahnemühle 100 percent cotton again.

Trying it on for Size: A6 Hahnemühle

 

New walking-bag sketchbook: A6 Hahnemuhle

Way back in April, I started using a 5 ½-inch square Hahnemühle sketchbook. The way I work with watercolor pencils, I didn’t think I would benefit from its 100 percent cotton paper, but it grew on me over time. In fact, it was in its last few pages when I made some portraits with watercolor pencils that I really appreciated the quality of its paper – both the tooth and the sizing.

Although the page size is a 5 ½-inch square, the cover makes it a 6-inch square. I love the versatility of a square format, but its size was too large for my fitness-walking bag, which is what I had initially bought the book for. It didn’t fit well enough to become my daily-carry, so I was always taking it in and out, and I never had it with me when I wanted it. I finally filled it nine months later, and as much as I enjoyed using it, I thought carefully about what I would replace it with. The 100-percent cotton paper was worth repeating, but I thought I’d try a form factor I’ve never used before: A6. Like the square version, I got mine at St. Louis Art Supply.

No wonder the A6 size (about 4.1-by-5.8 inches) is comfortable and familiar to me: It’s almost exactly the same as 4-by-6-inch Uglybooks. Although its hardcovers still make it bulkier than I would prefer, at least I can easily fasten the Velcro flap on my bag again.

The A6 Hahnemuhle's cover makes it a bit
larger than an Uglybook... 

... but the page sizes are almost identical.
(Sticker from Ernest Theodore) 

The hardcover Hahnemuhle is bulkier than I would like,
but I'm hoping not too bulky to daily-carry.

3 1/2" x 5 1/2" Stillman & Birn atop A6 Hahnemuhle

Years ago, I tried using the 3 ½-by 5 ½ -inch version of the Stillman & Birn Beta sketchbook in my fitness-walking bag. I thought the lightweight softcovers and small format would be ideal, but it didn’t last long. Something about that narrowish aspect ratio felt more cramped than it should. Just like Field Notes, which have the same dimensions: They’re good for commuter portraits and such, but they always feel a bit tight for urban sketching. I feel the same way about S&B’s larger 5 ½-by-8 ½-inch format compared to the A5 Hahnemühle that has become my standard urban sketching book: Somehow that slightly less longish aspect ratio (A5 size is 5.82 by 8.26 inches) makes a big difference. (Picky and idiosyncratic, I know – but when it comes to art supplies, what isn’t?)

I already know I love the paper, and the comfortable A6 size has a better chance of becoming a daily-carry in my walking bag. Let’s see how it goes.

Sketch notes: This time of year, the sky often has a pale-orange tint that looks like it’s close to dawn or dusk, even at mid-day (below). I love that dry-brush effect in the sky, and I credit both the texture and the sizing of the 100 percent cotton Hahnemühle paper.

2/9/23 Maple Leaf neighborhood (Caran d'Ache Museum Aquarelle watercolor pencils in A6 Hahnemuhle sketchbook)

2/10/23 Maple Leat Park (Museum Aquarelles in A6 Hahnemuhle)

I usually don’t bother using my “licking” method when I’m out on a fitness walk, but the sky over Maple Leaf Park recently was irresistible (at left). I also knew that the Hahnemühle’s paper could take it. 

Both of these sky effects were done with my usual Kuretake waterbrush. Some watercolor painters like to dis the lowly waterbrush, and I’m sure if one were trying to make big, juicy washes, these plastic bristles wouldn’t cut it. But if the page is small, I think the paper’s quality has a much bigger impact on the result than the brush. In fact, I think paper quality is more important than the brush under any circumstance. That’s a bold statement for a non-painter to make, but I’m standing by it.