Sunrise Sky

 

10/30/25 Sunrise

Although I usually batch my skyscapito sketches and blog about several at once, I’ve been so lax lately in making them that I decided to post this one right away. Given that my last ones were in August and then January before that, who knows when I’ll get around to the next one. Ever since I completed my move from upstairs to the main floor last spring, I seem to have fallen out of the sunrise/sunset groove.

On the upside, my recently refreshed upstairs studio/go bag sketch kit was fun and handy to use for this little sunrise sketch. In addition to the same Caran d’Ache bicolors that have always been in it, a wider range of Museum Aquarelles now occupy the kit. A few of them served me well here, and I didn’t lose time (or color in the sky) fussing around looking for materials – everything I needed was in the portfolio.

Skyscapito Slacker

 

Here it is nearly the end of August, and I have only a few sunset skyscapitos since spring! What a slacker I’ve been. I knew I wouldn’t be sketching sunrise during the summer, but when the sun doesn’t go down until 9:30 p.m. around the solstice, you’d think I would have sketched more sunsets.

My only excuse is that I often take short walks around dusk during the summer, and I don’t sketch when it’s just a quick 10 or 15 minutes around the block (of course, the April 16 and July 13 sketches were made during some of those walks; so much for that excuse).

It’s not for lack of looking out the window at the right time – I almost always at least take a glance for color – but it’s been a ho-hum summer that way. In July we enjoyed (and then started to worry about) endless weeks of cloudless skies. August has been better, but where have I been? Apparently not at the right window at the right time.

The very good news, though, is that we’ve had a nearly smoke-free summer so far (knock, knock). I’m grateful not to have that kind of terrible beauty to sketch.

Prime Time for Skyscapitos

 

12/26/23 Early morning

As I’ve mentioned before, this time of year, as dark and dreary as it can be, is a sweet spot for sketching sky color: I can easily catch both sunrise and sunset times. Most of these were done with my usual skyscapito media: watercolor pencils and a white Uglybook (I hardly ever use a white one otherwise). Based on where I can see the sky colors most easily, I usually use Caran d’Ache Bicolors for sunrises and Museum Aquarelles for sunsets. In a couple cases I tried dark-colored pages – a convenient shorthand for capturing the predominant sky hues.

And as dark and dreary as it can be, I’ve been pleasantly surprised by how much color the sky offers even during the worst of winter. All I have to do is remember to look for it.

Recently I grumbled about how little nature sketching I did last year, but I'm fairly consistent about sketching skyscapitos year-round. I guess that counts as nature sketching, doesn’t it?

On Jan. 15, I was lucky enough to catch both sunrise and sunset.

The Skyscapito Sweet Spot

 

This time of year is the sweet spot for conveniently sketching colorful skyscapitos: Sunrise is late enough that I can easily catch it before breakfast (sometimes even after); sunset is early enough that it doesn’t interfere with dinner prep. And despite quite a bit of rain, we’ve had some particularly stunning sunsets this month.

Another sketcher had commented on how disappointing her “feeble attempt” is at trying to capture the drama of sunrise. I certainly concur every time I attempt these sketches – it’s hubris, really, for mere mortals to think we can somehow emulate the splendor of nature. But it’s also human nature (or artist’s nature?) to try anyway.

Summer Skyscapitos

 

As was true last year, I made the fewest skyscapitos during the summer: I’m not awake early enough to catch sunrise, and by the time the sun goes down, I’m in the middle of a book, movie or some other evening pastime. Looking back at the few I made, though, I’m grateful that this summer’s skyscapitos include only two smoky ones.

A friend took part in the Inchies Challenge this year, sponsored by Mindful Art Studio. She made a series of watercolor paintings that were 2-inch squares. Delighted by the concept, I started thinking about how I might participate in the future – find or make a tiny sketchbook? Draw a grid of squares? Cut up a stack of small, square sheets of paper?

Then it occurred to me: Although rectangular, most of my skyscapitos are about 2 inches on the short side. (Fitting a landscape-format composition into a square would be a greater challenge than the size.) I guess I’m already doing a form of inchies!

This is the only skyscapito I have made while out 
taking a walk. Just as the sun was going down, the
moon was rising, eerily copper colored in the 
smoky sky.

A Few Reflections on COVID

 

1/22/23 Dusk

Whenever I blogged about the daily sketches of my hand during the Before Vax Times (my term for that era, which was distinctly different from the current Not-Yet-After Times), I often used the opportunity to express my anxiety, grief, outrage and insights about the pandemic. Now that I’m fully recovered from COVID-19 and have had some time to process, I thought I’d use my blog to reflect again, this time from the other side.

First, I can’t help but begin with anything but gratitude for all the science and sacrifice that went into development of the vaccines that kept my symptoms light and tolerable. Although I had some anxiety about potential long-term consequences, I never feared that COVID would kill me. I had full faith that all those boosters (each one of which caused me inconvenient side effects at the time) would do their job, and they did.

1/23/23 Dusk

During the course of the pandemic, I have felt a moral and social obligation to help protect others, but let’s be honest: My first priority has always been protecting myself. Sure, I knew my mask would help keep my potential cooties away from others, but I wore it to keep their cooties off me. 

Once I learned of my definite exposure, however, everything changed. Because I felt confident that the vaccines would help me recover relatively easily, my primary concern shifted to others – specifically the spouse guy I was trying to protect (our caution paid off, and he dodged the bullet completely). I also suddenly felt a much greater responsibility for protecting random strangers who might not recover as easily as I hoped to. The meme from the first pandemic year, “Don’t kill someone inadvertently,” took on greater meaning. Suddenly I had become the person that I had feared and avoided for three years.

1/26/23 Sunrise

My perspective also shifted in another way. For three years, I have been vigilant about avoiding large crowds and generally cautious about being around others. Even post-vax when I started venturing out more, I never stopped being cautious, especially indoors, but the face of COVID was always an anonymous stranger (or more like crowds of anonymous strangers). That’s why I find it deeply ironic that when COVID finally caught me, I was enjoying lunch with a dear, trusted friend.

Other than short masked walks around the neighborhood, I stayed home for 11 days, including six full days in isolation. When I finally tested negative and started running errands again, I felt oddly invincible. Oh, I’m fully aware that it’s still possible to get it again (many people have been through it multiple times by now), but I figure that during the days and weeks following my infection, my body has as much natural protection against these damn cooties as it will ever have. At least for a short while, I am among the least likely people to get COVID. Walking into a grocery store the other day (yes, still masked, of course), I felt safe for the first time since March 2020. It was a bit exhilarating! At least for a moment. (Edited 2/18/23: This article says I might be good for as long as 10 months.)

1/30/23 Sunset

During my solitary confinement, the only window in my sequestering room has a view of a scrappy corner of our backyard that is mostly blocked by a tree. I could barely see the sky. One of many things I missed was the luxury of running to any window of my choice to make quick, small skyscapito sketches like these. 

If there’s one thing the pandemic teaches me over and over, it’s that I must never take anything for granted.

2/11/23 Sunset

2/12/23 Sunset

2/13/23 Sunset

My “Downstairs Studio,” Part 2

Panel 1: skyscapito and nocturne kits

(If you missed Part 1, read it first for the context.)

With a total of 76 mostly pencil-sized elastic loops, my “downstairs studio” portfolio case seemed plenty big enough, but I knew I had to be judicious in how I filled it. Initially I thought I would simply put all my small, specialized kits into it, but a better idea was to make my selections seasonal.

Since I use it year-round, I began with my skyscapito kit made up of Caran d’Ache Bicolors, a waterbrush and a black Uni Pin brush pen (see panel 1 above). Since it’s winter, my slimmed-down nocturne kit came next: a white Sakura Gelly Roll and a couple of white/off-white Prismacolors. Christmas is over, so I left out the metallic gel pens. In the summer when I sketch on the deck, I’ll replace the nocturne kit with Steller’s jay and squirrel colors.

The first panel shown above also includes a Faber-Castell Pitt Soft Brush Pen and a kneadable eraser because it’s the only panel that includes a few larger loops to accommodate them. I was disappointed that the pencil loops are too tight for some pens, but it just means I have to be more selective. I was pleased that my Mighty Bright XtraFlex2 Book Light (shown below), which I use for sketching in the dark, clips onto the edge of the folding panel and doesn’t impede zipping the case closed. It does block several loops on the third panel, though, so I’m not sure how long it will stay there.

Mighty Bright light clipped to Panel 3.

The center panel (below) is devoted to graphite and Bic ballpoints (in three point sizes). I may have given the Bics too much space, but since I love grabbing them for portraits, I’ll leave them in for now.

Panel 2: Too many Bics?

The third panel (below) includes a small selection of Caran d’Ache Neocolor I non-soluble wax pastels (a Zorn palette and a primary triad), a selection of Caran d’Ache Museum Aquarelles, and a Viarco ArtGraf water-soluble graphite pencil. The colors of Museum Aquarelles are not well-thought-out, since I use them mainly for urban sketching, but I couldn’t imagine assembling a “downstairs studio” without a few of my beloveds.

Panel 3: Neocolor I, ArtGraf, Museum Aquarelles and even room to grow.

As you can see, I left some space for growth and future ideas. I expect the contents to change often as I get inspired to use different materials. I have only one firm rule: I can’t bring downstairs any materials that don’t fit in the portfolio. If I run out of loops, then I have to take other things out to make space. This is the same way I manage my clothes closet (if I fill my finite number of hangers, I can’t buy new clothes until I get rid of others) and coffee mug collection (one kitchen shelf only). Needless to say, this system doesn’t work with my upstairs studio, which simply gets more crowded. But I have hope for the “downstairs studio.”

I’ve used the new “studio” several times for skyscapitos and portraits, and it’s working out well. I love its compactness – an easy carry around the house.

Just as satisfying as filling the portfolio was cleaning up my chairside table, which was long overdue for vacuuming and tidying. I put away materials I never use downstairs (how did so many rolls of washi tape walk down the stairs by themselves?), reevaluated others, and found a couple things I thought had gone missing. It feels good to start the new year this way. 

After!

Before

My “Downstairs Studio,” Part 1

 

It doesn't look like a studio, does it?

The small upstairs bedroom that I call my “studio” is where I store most of my art supplies. (It’s ironic, but with all the sketching I do on location, I actually make very little art in my studio except the occasional still life or convenient window view.) But you may have noticed that I’ve developed numerous small kits for specialized needs. In addition to the countless portable kit variations I’ve made for sketching on location, I’ve also put together one kit specifically for night sketching, one for sketching birds and squirrels from the back deck, and another for skyscapitos (sunrise and sunset colors).

These highly specialized kits are driven by practical needs: The subject matter is time-sensitive. The sun ain’t gonna wait for me to run upstairs and pick out materials, and neither are the jays. In addition, in the early morning, I don’t want to disturb the spouse guy sleeping in the room adjacent to my studio by rummaging around for tools. I need to have my specialized kits located in the areas where I use them.

Nocturne kit

Just lately, I’ve been driven by another need: Despite being an avid sketcher, in the evening, I run out of steam. It’s hard for me to work up creative energy when I’m tired. I had gotten into the bad habit of spending evening hours scrolling through social media or bingeing on YouTubes that were neither entertaining nor informative.

In a conscious effort to break that habit, I’ve been looking for ways to practice drawing or otherwise be creatively productive for at least part of that evening time. To be successful, it’s important that I minimize barriers. For example, looking for subject matter around the house requires too much work, and even searching for Google images to draw from can be daunting – I could easily spend the whole evening searching instead of drawing. That’s why I’ve been thrilled to discover Earthsworld’s treasure trove of portrait photography: From a single source, I can randomly or more thoughtfully choose a photo to practice portraiture – a subject that I have been wanting to develop for a long time. I’m motivated to practice, and it’s also easy to find source material.

Skyscapito kit

Having everything accessible downstairs where I tend to spend evening time is also important. Encouraged that I had found an enjoyable and productive way to break a habit, I started wanting more supplies: Bics, Neocolors, a couple of colors of Uglybooks. Whatever I wanted was still upstairs, and my potential laziness to go get them became another barrier I had to eliminate. More materials started creeping down the stairs. My “reading” table, which formerly held only a stack of books and one mugful of pens and pencils that I use in my journal, was turning into a cluttered studio annex. I needed a solution.

Around the holidays when Amazon was bombarding me with gift ideas, one image caught my eye. It was a “complete drawing kit” including a variety of colored and graphite pencils, tools and sketchbooks, and the entire contents came in a zipped-up case like a small portfolio. Having always acquired my art materials ala carte, preassembled kits had been off my radar.

Stellar's jay kit

I started looking at more options, and, of course, I found many – a multitude with slight variations in content and form factor. The contents, likely mediocre, didn’t interest me, but the zipped-up cases did. I wanted one that was neither too big (which would only tempt me to move more of my studio to the annex) nor too small. Since I wasn’t planning to carry it around, weight and bulkiness weren’t primary concerns, but I did want it to be compact. I found one that would require me to be judicious but still be comfortable: Seventy pencil slots plus space for a few non-pencil items seemed about right. At 8 ½ by 11 ½ by 1 ½ inches, it wouldn’t take over my whole reading table.

Made by Pandafly, it was 20 bucks – a price I would have been willing to pay even if the case had been empty. In fact, it was filled with colored, watercolor, metallic, graphite and charcoal “prencils” [sic], sketch pads, pens, erasers, blending stumps, two sharpeners with varying hole sizes, a sandpaper block, a paintbrush, a waterbrush and an interestingly shaped “rub sponge.” A drawing tutorial is also included. Considering the price, this kit has thought of everything.

The zipped-up case is 8 ½ by 11 ½ by 1 ½ inches.

Unzipped

Fully opened

Two sketch pads and a tutorial included.

The most surprising kit item: an egg-shaped "rub sponge."

1/5/23 white charcoal and graphite in Uglybook sketchbook
(Earthsworld reference photo)

Made in China, the materials are not ones I would write home about, but neither are they as bad as I had expected. After giving everything a perfunctory scribble, I used a white charcoal pencil and a 12B graphite pencil to make a sketch, just for fun. Notably, all the kit’s pencils hold the distinction of being the only ones in my vast collection without any kind of branding: Completely nameless pencils are hard to come by!

Aside 1: When I first began looking at these, I was ambivalent about the “complete drawing kit” concept. As a gift to a budding artist, especially a younger one, it’s a convenient, compact, inexpensive way to present a variety of materials to play and experiment with. If the kit had contained truly terrible materials, though, I was afraid they would be discouraging (the issue I had talked about in my recent Crayola post). The items in the kit I purchased, however, are decent enough that they could satisfactorily whet an appetite for drawing without being discouraging. That made me feel better. I do wish, however, that the portfolio could be purchased empty. Filled by an experienced artist for another who is less so, imagine what a nice gift that could be.

Aside 2: A couple of reviews had mentioned the kit having a strong odor, which made me leery. However, the “odor” turned out to be the delicious licorice scent I love about Prismacolor and Arrtx colored pencils! They must all contain a binding ingredient that delightfully evokes Good & Plenty.

Good & Plenty notwithstanding, I didn’t buy the kit for its contents. After taking these photos, I immediately removed everything (I plan to donate them), and then the fun began: Filling the case with my own stuff. Stay tuned for Part 2.

Empty and full of potential!