Endangered

 

2/6/26 palm cockatoo, Woodland Park Zoo

On one of our couple days of “false spring” last week, I took my fitness walk around Woodland Park Zoo. I told myself I’d make one brisk circuit of the zoo grounds first without sketching, then go back to sketch, but I couldn’t resist stopping when I got to the Conservation Aviary. One of my favorite zoo exhibits, it’s home to several free-roaming and -flying birds that are all, very sadly, endangered. It’s possible to observe the birds fairly closely, and unlike tiny birds, these exotic beauties move relatively slowly, so they are more easily sketchable.

Great argus

Southern ground hornbill and Humboldt penguins

More penguins

After finishing my walk, I ended my visit at the Humboldt penguin exhibit, another favorite. They, too, are endangered, so my theme for the day ended up being endangered birds.

Stepping back from the exhibit, I decided to catch a few human gestures, too (below). The young boy who repeatedly squatted to see the swimming penguins was fun to try to capture! (I often practice squatting during yoga and nearly daily as part of my fitness routine, and I envied how easy he made squatting look! I guess it is when you’re 3!)

Watching the penguins

Paper notes: I knew that toothy Hahnemühle would be a bit too strong with super-soft Derwent Drawing pencils, but I tried it anyway. It wore down my pencils like sandpaper, and it was difficult to draw any fine details like eyes. Although I didn’t mind Stillman & Birn Beta’s milder tooth when I was making landscapes, I don’t care for Hahnemühle. I would have enjoyed smooth S&B Zeta much more, but I don’t like using wet media on that. I’d have to either decide which type of material to use that day and bring the appropriate sketchbook, or bring both sketchbooks everywhere, just in case. Arrggh! (More first world mixed-media problems.)

When I got to the quick human gestures at the end of my visit, I pulled out my current daily-carry Field Notes, which contains their typically smooth, all-purpose paper. That turned out to be quite lovely with a Drawing pencil, which went down as fast and smooth as a marker.

Dilated on the John Lewis Bridge

 

12/4/24 Northgate

My retinologist’s office is a bit too far outside my practical walking range, but if I drive and park at the Northgate Light Rail Station, the rest of the way is easily walkable. The best part is that the walk requires crossing the John Lewis Memorial Pedestrian Bridge, which connects Northgate with North Seattle College. (I previously sketched from the bridge a couple of years ago, and I sketched the bridge itself in 2021 when it was brand new.)

Walking to my appointment in the early afternoon, sketching was fun; it was chilly, but the clear sky and sunshine felt great. By the time I walked back less than a couple of hours later, it was already the golden hour, and the sun was nearly below the tree line. Cold and with dilated pupils, it wasn’t quite as pleasant. I wanted to find something to fill that small vertical space near the center of the spread, but sometimes a blank space tells a story as well as a filled one.

Look at that lovely golden-hour light that turned my sketchbook from magenta to red!

Incidentally, the walking process I described above is my fitness ideal. My goal is to walk at least 60 minutes a day, seven days a week. I don’t always hit the goal, especially when the weather is inhospitable, but I try. Although walking is my favorite part of my self-care routine (which also includes yoga and a workout with hand weights and resistance bands), a commitment of an hour a day is a significant chunk of time. I try to find ways to incorporate the walking with whatever else I have going on that day, and sometimes that means driving part of the way and walking the rest – whatever works out. The best part, though, is that a potential sketch opportunity is always the carrot on the end of my stick.

Old Favorites at the Olympic Sculpture Park

 

8/13/22 Calder's Eagle framing the Needle

After the blistering heat of the previous outing, USk Seattle lucked out on Saturday – a mostly sunny morning with temps in the mid-70s! Although we’ve met at the Olympic Sculpture Park several times, and I’ve also sketched there on my own, the group hadn’t met at the park in five years (the last time was part of our Pity Party Weekend after the Vancouver, B.C., West Coast Sketch Crawl was cancelled). I was happy to get back there again, especially on such a perfect morning.

I was so happy, in fact, that I made no attempt to resist the cliché image every photographer likes to capture at the park: the Space Needle under the legs of Alexander Calder’s vermilion Eagle. Nine years ago, I made a nearly identical composition, and when I looked back at it, I realized how much the surrounding trees had grown. The first time I had sketched it, most of the Needle’s body was visible; this time, I barely framed its head.

Richard Serra’s Wake, another work that I have sketched before, called to me again. The series of gracefully curved monoliths needs people nearby to show their scale, and David sketching it conveniently gave me just that.

David sketching Serra's Wake

Leading up to and between those two sketches, I made a couple of other small sketches. One was a study for a full view of The Eagle that I decided was better as a thumbnail. The other was of Roxy Paine’s Split, which is one of several works at the park that I have avoided. It’s a shiny, metallic, realistically shaped tree that, in a sketch, can look just like an actual tree – I don’t really know how to draw it so that it’s obviously an artwork. I tried a small composition in black and white that probably looks like an ordinary tree.

Paine's Split

Calder's Eagle

The trip downtown was an opportunity to sketch more than sculptures – people! I caught several light rail commuters and even yoga students at the park participating in the largest class I had ever seen. Still rusty from the pandemic, my people-sketching skills needed the practice. 

Link light rail commuter

Link light rail commuter

Link light rail commuter

Link light rail commuter
(the only one besides me who wore a mask)

Link light rail commuter

Yoga students

One of our biggest turnouts ever!

Tina’s Top 10 Memorable Sketches of 2021

 

2/27/21 6th & Westlake

One of my year-end rituals is to look back at the sketches I made and pick the 10 most memorable. Not necessarily the “best” or my “favorites,” they are sketches that stay with me for emotional significance or personal meaning. Not surprisingly, every one of the 10 this year somehow relates to the pandemic. Even when the subject was mundane (as it most often was), the emotional impact was not.

 

Feb. 27, Sixth and Westlake (above): My first sketch downtown in more than a year, this view of Westlake was right around the corner from the Amazon SuperVax site, where Greg was receiving his first Pfizer dose. After highly competitive and aggressive scheduling tactics, the shot itself felt triumphant. But more than that, we both felt immensely grateful that we were one step closer to being safer.

March 25, Toni (from photo, below): Although I have many friends and acquaintances who have been affected by COVID in some way, no one has touched me more deeply than Toni, my yoga instructor’s sister. I made this sketch from a video image that Fran took as Toni was transported from her hospital bed (where she had fought COVID for five harrowing months) to another facility where she was supposed to begin her long rehabilitation. We all believed she had beaten the odds. Days after the transfer, she succumbed to pneumonia – only one of nearly 800,000 dead so far in the US from COVID-19. Although I never knew her, Toni’s suffering and courage stay with me still.

3/25/21 Toni

April 5, Microsoft Conference Center vaccination site: I documented my own first dose of the Pfizer vaccine with mundane sketches of fellow jab recipients waiting out their mandatory 15 minutes. It was both amusing and poignant to see sketchers worldwide sharing similar sketches. 

4/5/21 Microsoft Conference Center vaccination site

April 26, my 407^th hand: Completing the drawing I began on April 5, I added a second hand in a gesture of gratitude, ending my series. Although the pandemic was far from over, receiving my second vaccine dose represented a measure of safety I hadn’t known in 407 days. 

4/26/21 The culmination of 407 consecutive days of drawing my hand

5/17/21 St. Edward State Park

6/13/21 Gas Works Park

May 17, St. Edward State Park (above): A new sketch location for me, St. Edward State Park is memorable in another way: It was the first time I had sketched with friends in more than a year.

June 13, Gas Works Park (above): For the first time in 15 months, Urban Sketchers Seattle was able to sketch together again. How I had missed everyone!

July 8, outdoor life drawing (below): Almost as much as urban sketching with my friends, I had missed life drawing. Joining an informal plein air group at Gas Works Park for an outdoor session felt like one more step toward a return to normalcy.

7/8/21 life drawing at Gas Works Park

Sept. 15, Ocean Shores cottage porch: This Washington Coast town is only a couple of hours away by car, but as our first “travel” in two years, it was an enormous treat. Several days on the beach rejuvenated our pandemic-weary souls.

9/15/21 Ocean Shores

Oct. 17, light rail rider: A sketch outing at Pike Place Market gave me the incentive to take my first ride on public transportation in 19 months.

Nov. 16, sashimi at Kisaku: One more milestone in our return to normalcy, we dined inside a restaurant for the first time in 21 months.

10/17/21 Sound Transit light rail, southbound

11/16/21 sashimi appetizer at Kisaku Sushi

Music for Yoga in the Park

 

8/26/21 Fran Gallo leads her class in the tree pose as Third Harbour plays traditional Celtic music.

My yoga instructor Fran Gallo has offered a Yoga in the Park class series every summer for 21 years. In recent years, it became my tradition to sketch her class annually. I skipped it last summer, but this year I felt comfortable resuming my tradition. Even more convenient for me, she moved her class from Wallingford to Green Lake in a nice shady spot with trees.

We didn’t need the shade last Thursday, when the wind and cloud cover made it downright chilly by early evening, but it was a class I couldn’t miss: Third Harbour, a trio playing Irish/Celtic music, performed lovely, traditional music for her students. As I sketched, I could feel my own and everyone’s blood pressure dropping as stresses of the day fell away. Fran begins every class with a dedication, and on that day it was “walking on sacred ground.” The music was ideal for connecting the mind, body and spirit with the earth.

It looks like all her students are doing different poses, but that's because as soon as I sketched one, the pose would change!

Heavy Load, Heavy Heart

3/11/20 Green Lake neighborhood

On Wednesday after Governor Inslee proclaimed a number of restrictions in three counties to control the spread of COVID-19, everything I enjoy doing or that were long-standing regular parts of my life suddenly stopped. The other USk admins and I immediately cancelled sketch outings. Within hours, Gage Academy (where I take classes and attend life drawing) and my favorite museums announced closures. My Jazzercise class soon followed. My yoga studio is still operating, but I decided to stop attending. The neighborhood food store where I occasionally shop announced it was closed because an employee had tested positively for COVID-19.

Washing hands compulsively, wiping down home surfaces with 91 percent isopropyl, hunkering down at home – that’s everyone’s life now.

It’s funny: I thoroughly enjoy staying home and have many interests that keep me busy here, not the least of which is drawing. And yet when I know I can’t come and go anymore without thinking about potential risks, it feels more like a cage. My cabin fever (though I guess I shouldn’t use the expression “fever”!) has been much worse than during those several days last year when we were snowbound.

3/12/20 Maple Leaf neighborhood

My sanity saver has been walks through the neighborhood and around Green Lake. As far as I know, there’s nothing unsafe about walking: I keep my hands to myself, everyone stays at a safe distance (I spotted a friend at the park, and we both waved but kept walking), and in the ‘hood, I rarely even see neighbors. It feels especially good to move, breathe fresh air, and have life affirmed by birds and budding trees. When it warms up a bit, it will be even easier to forget about this global disaster for the duration of a walk.

Luckily for me, there’s always a sketch wherever I go. Stay safe, everyone.

Technical note: It was sprinkling during both sketches. I don’t mind getting a little wet, but it’s annoying when pens stop working on wet paper. Maybe it’s time to get out my Field Notes Expedition again for these drizzly walks.

Yoga, Music and Dogs

6/25/19 Murphey enjoying his shavasana

It’s becoming a delightful tradition for me. My yoga instructor Fran Gallo offers an outdoor class at Meridian Park in the summer, and she invited me to come and sketch her students. Last week we all had the added treat of live cello and guitar music.

Last year, it was sunny and warm, and two years before that it was a chilly, breezy June-uary evening. Though the clouds were coming in during last week’s class, the temperature was just right for yoga and sketching.

The large class formed a loose circle, so wherever I looked, I could see yogis and yoginis in the same pose from different angles. All my practice at life drawing helped immensely in capturing their poses, but even so, it’s always an interesting challenge. One thing I know from my own practice in Fran’s class is that we always work symmetrically. If we do a pose on the right, we will eventually do it again on the left – and some students always seem to do it backwards! It was a key opportunity for me: If I couldn’t complete a gesture, I knew I had to wait only a bit, and when it was repeated on the second side, I looked for someone working on the “wrong” side. The most challenging pose to sketch was eagle – those wrapped legs! That’s a pose I never get to practice at life drawing.

During the restful shavasana, my best model was Murphey, whom I remember sketching a previous year. I never saw him do downward dog, but he was a master at shavasana.

As one of my Facebook friends commented when I posted these sketches, “Yoga, music, dogs – what more could you ask for?” Indeed.

Yoga on a Summer Evening

6/26/18 Yoga at Meridian Park, including tree pose
among the trees.

Yoga is always a calming, meditative experience, but on a warm summer evening outdoors, it must be especially nurturing. My yoga instructor Fran Gallo offers a class at Meridian Park in the summer, and a couple of years ago she invited me to sketch her students. That time, it was such a cold June-uary evening that Fran had them work through poses quickly and vigorously so that they could stay warm! On Tuesday, I had the same opportunity again, but this time it was sunny and much warmer (though not hot) – a perfect evening for both yoga and sketching.

Working at a much slower, meditative pace, the students held poses longer and moved fluidly from one asana to the next, giving me a bit more time to capture each. It was very much like gesture sketches at a life drawing session. Backlit by the low evening sun, the students cast strong shadows that were fun to include, and I tried to catch the light around them. Still, even with the longer poses, it was a brisk, vigorous sketch workout for me!

A couple of young yoginis practiced along with mom.

At the end of the practice during Savasana as the students rested and meditated, I decided to rest, too – by sketching Murphy, a large dog that came along with his yogini human. Even with the longer poses that Fran led, Murphy held his pose even longer!

Sketching relaxed Murphy was my restful Savasana!

Yoga in the Park

6/14/16 brush pen

In the summer, my yoga instructor Fran Gallo offers a Tuesday evening class in the Wallingford neighborhood’s Meridian Park. Yesterday I decided to join the class, but not for my usual downward dogs and sun salutations. Instead, Fran and her students graciously allowed me to sketch them.

When I’m attending class myself, I’m focused on my own breath and form (or how creaky and inflexible I’m feeling!), so I hardly notice what others are doing. But with sketchbook and brush pen, I could focus on the beautiful grace and movement of yoga. Although they didn’t hold each pose for more than a few seconds, Fran led her students through a series of rhythmic, repeated poses, so if I missed one gesture, I knew I would see it again. I especially enjoyed capturing the partnered poses – two students making a symmetrical form as they helped support and balance each other.

6/14/16 brush pen, colored pencil

On that cold and windy evening (I should have joined them in a few triangles and warrior poses myself to stay warm!), I filled 12 pages of my sketchbook with small gesture sketches as Fran and her students practiced among the trees. (See my sketches from early last year when Fran invited me to sketch her class at the Yogalife studio.)

Updated 6/17/16: Here's Fran's blog post about the class!

Our Days Are Numbered

10/22/13 Platinum Carbon ink, watercolor, Canson XL 140 lb. paper

Not literally, course. But with every tree I sketch, I keep thinking it may be my last of the season. Who knows when the weather will turn to continual rain as it often does in October; who knows when a windstorm will blow all the leaves off.

In spite my thoughts of gloom and doom, when the day’s fog finally broke around 3 p.m., I dashed out to look for one more tree sketch – and found two. The first was only a block away – a maple growing in another Maple Leaf neighborhood traffic circle. (It’s not bent in the wind – it’s just growing asymmetrically.)

Feeling uplifted, I drove to a street near Green Lake where I often park for my yoga class. I’m usually rushing to get to class, so I don’t have time for a sketch, but I’ve been admiring the yellow and orange trees (cherries, I think) on both sides of the street. Now that I finally made time to sketch them, they were long past their prime. In fact, the tree I focused on was more bare than not. Like I said, their days are numbered.

But with the sun at my back lighting up all that color, it’s hard to be gloomy and doomy.

10/22/13 Platinum Carbon ink, watercolor, Canson XL 140 lb. paper