Where My Father Is

 

11/17/23 Silhouetted Mt. Rainier from Maple Leaf Park

My appreciation for nature hasn’t been lifelong. When I was young, I was indifferent to nature unless it was of direct benefit to me (such as snow days). My parents, however, valued nature and expressed appreciation for it in many ways. My mother was a haiku poet and sumi painter, and most of her subject matter was based in nature. In his retirement, my father became a painter too, and a favorite subject was his beloved Mt. Rainier.

They bought the house I grew up in because of its splendid view of Lake Washington and, at least in winter, Mt. Rainier. The rest of the year, however, a huge maple tree’s foliage blocked much of the mountain, which annoyed my father greatly. He was not one to complain about problems he could solve, however; he was a man of action.

I don’t know if the tree was on public or private property. I’m guessing there was no discussion with my mom, as she would surely not have approved. All I know is that one day he left the house with a saw, and the next thing we knew, the maple was missing a large chunk of branches, giving us a more complete view of Her Majesty. My preteen self was not particularly impressed. Whatever, dad.

Later in life, he mentioned often that he wanted his ashes sprinkled on Mt. Rainier. The summer after he died, my family gathered there to fulfill his final wish.

I’m grateful that I eventually grew to appreciate nature as my parents did. No longer having the regular view of Rainier that I grew up with (I had no idea then how precious it was, nor did I give it any thought), I cherish whatever glimpse I can get.

Mt. Rainier, Every Time

 

6/7/22 Mt. Rainier from Maple Leaf Park

I don’t know how many times* I’ve sketched Mt. Rainier, but every time I do, I learn more about Her Majesty’s proportions, contours or beautiful asymmetry. On this late morning at Maple Leaf Park, the light revealed contours I had not observed before. I never draw her exactly right, which makes me look forward to the next time.

(*I was curious, so I did a search of my scans (which are all tagged by subject). I have made 20 sketches of Mt. Rainier in the past decade, all but one from life.)

Mt. Rainier Commission

8/15/20 Mt. Rainier, 8" x 10," watercolor pencil on paper (mostly from photo)

Several weeks ago, a friend commissioned a drawing of Mt. Rainier. At the time, I had just made the sketch of Her Majesty from Maple Leaf Park, so I thought it would be an easy matter to return and do another. It turned out that the day I had sketched it was the last truly clear sky for seeing Rainier easily. Well over a hundred miles away, she’s partially visible from our bedroom window, so I would check each morning, and though she might be visible on the horizon, a low haze would keep the shadows indistinct. By mid-August, I was concerned that fall’s morning marine layer would soon be upon us, and I might not have another good opportunity to sketch Rainier from the park.

One morning, I decided the mountain was visible enough, so I headed out to the park early. Even as I began sketching, I could see the sky getting hazier. After drawing the contour and blocking in a few landmarks, I took it home and finished from a photo I had taken the day I had made the first sketch.

I knew it didn’t matter to my friend whether I had done it on location, from a photo or even from memory. But it mattered to me – I really wanted to do it “live.” It didn’t feel nearly as special or memorable to me to draw from the photo. I admit that the finished piece might be “better” in some ways because I was able to take my time, comfortably seated at my desk easel, instead of standing on a ledge at the park where the view is best. But urban sketching has spoiled me: Drawing from a photo will never be as satisfying, meaningful or “life-ful” as being on location.

Four Views of Her Majesty

 

1/31/26 Mt. Rainier from NE 80th Street I-5 overpass, Maple Leaf neighborhood

After sharing yet another sketch of Mt. Rainier (above), a friend who loves zines suggested that I publish one including all my sketches of Her Majesty. Well, I’m no Hokusai, and I didn’t think I had as many as 36 views of Mt. Rainier. I became curious, though, so I went to my Flickr account, where I have tried to be consistent in tagging subject matter. I was surprised to find that I had 32 sketches of Rainier (the earliest from 2015) – so when I add these, I’ll have exactly 36.

If I ever get motivated to publish a zine, I’ll know what to title it.

12/30/25 When I sketch Rainier from home, it's hardly ever at sunset, as the mountain is usually silhouetted by then or often obscured by haze, even if it was visible in the morning. This sketch was a rare occasion when the low west sun turned the clouds pink and gave a blush to one side of the peak. After I finished that sketch, I turned to the west to capture all the color.

The Mountain is Out – at Home

5/9/20 Mt. Rainier, Maple Leaf neighborhood

Even as it snowed in some parts of the country, summer suddenly arrived in the Pacific Northwest. Mid-afternoon, the temperature was 81 F, but on the tiny, unshaded, dark-floored sundeck off our bedroom, it was probably in the mid-90s. I suddenly had compassion for roofers.

What would compel me to stand out there for 45 minutes? The opportunity to sketch Mt. Rainier (or at least half of it) from home. Although we do catch glimpses of it occasionally, usually in the early morning, more often a cloud cover or general haze prevents us from seeing much (it's easier to see in winter when the tree becomes invisible). The combination of a cloudless sky and very clean air (due to far fewer cars on the roads) brought us this view. (Edited 5/18/20: I turned this sketch into a short demo.)

Below is an unobstructed view from a few days earlier that I had caught at Maple Leaf Park (where I managed to sketch Rainier a few years ago). The park was more crowded that day than we felt comfortable with, so we didn't stay long, but we couldn't resist this viewpoint. 

Mt. Rainier from Maple Leaf Park

The next day when I was walking in the neighborhood, I stopped at a spot I knew would give me a good view of the Olympics when the sky is clear. The twin peaks at left are The Brothers.

Olympic Mountains

Mt. Rainier, 7:27 a.m.

12/4/20 Mt. Rainier from our bedroom window, 7:27 a.m.

By 7 a.m., the southern sky (the direction our house faces) starts to get a bit coral-pinkish around the edges. I had been up for a while, anticipating the sky’s color on this rare clear morning, but I was waiting for Greg to get up so that I could open the blinds on our bedroom’s French doors, which offer the best view of The Mountain. When he was finally out of bed, Her Majesty’s silhouette was clearly visible (less so in summer when the trees are leafed out). As wispy clouds the same dark blue as Rainier floated by, I sketched like a madwoman trying to capture the sky’s hues before they disappeared.

Less than an hour later, the clouds had turned white, and Rainier had disappeared behind her shroud of mist as she so often does after the sun comes up.

When drawing, I usually spend the most time thinking about how to render a three-dimensional form, since that’s one of my primary interests. (Every now and then, I still hear Suzanne Brooker’s voice in the drawing classes I took from her several years ago as she explained ways to avoid the dreaded appearance of “flat-flat-flatness” in landscapes.) Rainier’s silhouette was utterly flat in the near-darkness, almost like a paper cutout. I kept searching for clues of shadows, but there were none. I stopped searching and gave in to the flatness. This sketch was as much about the sky as the landscape.

Mt. Rainier

4/30/14 Platinum Carbon ink, watercolor, Canson XL 140 lb. paper

If I take a five-minute walk, I can see this view of Mt. Rainier. Today is the very first time I sketched it. You’d think I’d be sketching it every chance I get.

It’s not a pleasant walk – I have to cross a busy, multi-lane, four-way-stop intersection that should have gotten a signal light many years ago. No matter the time of day, everyone’s crabby at that intersection because people don’t seem to know how to use a four-way, so a lot of honking and cussing goes on. Grumpy drivers never watch for pedestrians, so crossing means taking my life into my hands. (Driving there doesn’t help, as there’s no parking.) Once I get past that intersection, I have to stand on a heavily trafficked street overlooking Interstate 5, so it’s noisy, smelly and altogether not a wonderful place to sketch.

But none of this is why it’s taken me this long to finally sketch Mt. Rainier. The reason is that on most days of the year, a thick cloud cover obstructs it.

Not today.

Feng Shui

 

1/30/23 Mt. Rainier, Cascade Mountain range, at sunrise

A long time ago, I read an article mentioning that Seattle is one of the best locations in the world for feng shui. Surrounded by water bodies on three sides and mountains to both the east and to the west, it’s considered to be nearly ideal. Apparently some practitioners move here just to get the feng shui benefits of being nestled in the center of mountains, lakes and Puget Sound.

Monday morning dawned to perfectly clear skies and 22 degrees. Warm and comfy in our livingroom, I scribbled Mt. Rainier’s dark blue silhouette (what I could see of it behind our neighbor’s roof) against the pale orange sky. A few minutes later, the sun came up, and Rainier demurred.

1/30/23 The Brothers, Olympic Mountain range

A few hours later when the temp had risen to a balmy 31, I stood on the Interstate 5 overpass on Northeast 85^th Street. Rainier to the southeast was hazy, but I was there to sketch The Brothers. All I had to do was pivot 90 degrees from the same spot, and there they were, distinct on the western horizon.

I don’t practice feng shui; all I know about it is in the first paragraph. But when I can sketch two mountain peaks on the same morning, from home and from a few blocks away, with a walk to a lake in between, I have no doubt that I’m in a good place.

Tina’s Top 10 Memorable Sketches of 2024

 

2/1/24 Downtown Seattle from Greg's apartment

Every December, I do a series of year-end review posts related to new products I tried that year that I liked or didn’t like; products I wished someone would make; my most memorable sketches of the year; and reflective thoughts. However, with big life changes and downsizing tasks taking a large part of my attention this year, art supplies – acquiring, using and reviewing them – weren’t on my mind as much. And with my new commitment to acquiring less of everything (recent wagon falling-offs notwithstanding), it will be the same going forward. It’s a good time to downsize my end-of-year blog traditions, too.

The one post I want to continue, though, is my review of the year’s most memorable sketches. I truly enjoy looking back at my sketches from the past 12 months (I don’t know the total number, but I scanned 1,080 images as of Dec. 23) and thinking about why some stand out as special. These sketches are almost never my “best” work (in terms of “art quality,” whatever that might be); instead, they are memorable for the feelings they evoke or meanings they hold in some way.

It’s always interesting to see the themes that emerge. A strong one is the change in my style and approach this year as I moved away from individual, stand-alone sketches and toward visual storytelling and on-location comics made of multiple sketches. It’s a very different way of thinking visually, and I’m still enjoying the process.

Of course, I enjoyed sketching with my local Urban Sketchers group regularly, but I also did more social sketching with small groups of friends than ever before. After the pandemic had subsided, and I could have gone back to social sketching, I pulled back. It was not so much out of fear of COVID but because those years were when my time and energy were increasingly committed to Greg’s care. Twenty twenty-four was the first post-pandemic year that I could spend long periods of time sketching with friends whenever I wanted. It’s an activity that I especially cherish.

As is almost always the case, my most memorable sketches are ones I made on location. Although I have learned to value drawing from photos, those sketches don’t stay with me as special. For that, I have to be there, live.

Feb. 1, Seattle skyline (top of post): Although I didn’t share this sketch of the downtown skyline until April when I was ready to talk about it, I had sketched it from Greg’s Aegis Living apartment window on Feb. 1, the day he had moved in. At the time, he didn’t understand yet that it would be his new home, and I sketched to quell the anxiety, guilt and sorrow I was hiding.

 April, family reunion in Dallas (below): Gathering with my family to view the total solar eclipse in Dallas was very special and memorable in many ways.

4/7/24 Koyama family shoes

6/24/24 Ole Bolle, Portland

June, Portland: Because I was on my own, this short trip to Portland was memorable for being a wonderful opportunity to sketch as much as I wanted without the usual daily routines and responsibilities. Sketching Ole Bolle (left) with a friend was especially fun.

 June 29, Greenwood Car Show: Year after year, this neighborhood car show has been one of my favorite summertime events where I usually made portraits of individual cars (as well as the general goings-on). This was the first time I thought of it more as a reportage opportunity, telling the story of the event with a series of sketches (below). My post includes a retrospective of past years, which show the differences in approach.

 

6/29/24 Greenwood Car Show

July 3, Ballard neighborhood: Roy, Mary Jean and I had so much fun following the sketch path through Ballard (below) that Gabi Campanario had published in the Seattle Times. The day inspired us to brainstorm other neighborhoods we’d like to walk and sketch through in a similar way next summer.

 

7/3/24 Ballard neighborhood

7/17/24 Fishermen's Terminal

July 17, Urban Sketchers Seattle 15th anniversary celebration (at right): As the opening event leading up to Sketcher Fest as well as a milestone celebration, USk Seattle’s anniversary outing at Fishermen’s Terminal was very special, indeed.

July 18, Sketcher Fest ice cream cruise (below): Another Sketcher Fest auxiliary event, the ice cream cruise was a wonderful way to reunite with lots of sketcher friends, many of whom were visiting from other states or countries. I also felt personal and civic pride showing off my hometown, delighted to sketch it from a unique point of view. 

7/18/24 Sketcher friends on the ice cream cruise

July 18, Mt. Rainier: After all the social excitement and non-stop activities leading up to Sketcher Fest, Joel and I ended the day quietly sketching Her Majesty from Maple Leaf Park (below). Both of us introverts, we needed the relaxing, quiet time to appreciate Mt. Rainier’s beauty.

7/18/24 Mt. Rainier from Maple Leaf Park

 Oct. 14, Waterfront Overlook Walk: Seeing and sketching the brand-new Overlook for the first time with Kate and Mary Jean felt like a worthy culmination of years of civic planning (and plenty of tax dollars). It was also an ideal opportunity to take a reportage approach and show as much of the new attraction as possible (below).

10/14/24 Waterfront Overlook Walk

 Dec. 11, Omakase Lunch at Moriyama Sushi: Rats perform better when rewarded. When my big downsizing efforts began mid-year, sketching while eating treats became my reward system. The most unusual treat of the year was a colorful omakase meal (below).

12/11/24 Omakase meal, Moriyama Sushi

Incomparable Views from Columbia Center

 

1/24/26 Views from the Columbia Center's 73rd floor Sky View Observatory

During my first few years of sketching, the ticket price to ride up to the Columbia Center’s 73^rd floor Sky View Observatory was only $5. A small group of sketchers had gathered up there a couple of times, and I went up myself on other occasions (here’s a sketch from 2012, and another from 2013). Eventually, the ticket price crept up to the current price of $33, making it cost-prohibitive as a USk venue.

Lady luck and a kind ticket seller were with us on Saturday afternoon, however, when USk Seattle showed up. We thought we would have access to the entire interesting lobby area that’s open to the public on weekdays. Unfortunately, under a new policy, only the ticketing area to the observation floor is open on weekends. Taking pity on us on that cold day, the ticket seller offered us a generous group discount, so most of us opted to sketch from the 73^rd floor.

On a cloudless day, the 360-degree view was incomparable! In addition to Mt. Rainier and the Olympic mountains, Mt. Baker is visible from up there – one of few spots in Seattle where that northern peak can be seen. Yes, Columbia Center is even better than the Space Needle (a ticket to the top now costs $49), which is always jam-packed with tourists. Although some tourists were at Columbia Center, most snapped a few photos and moved on quickly, leaving all the cushy seating to sketchers.

And sketch we did! Nearly 40 sketchers enjoyed an inspiring afternoon in the sky.

Mt. Rainier and the Cascades to the south

Mt. Baker to the north

Before the outing began, I stood at 4th and Cherry to make this 5-minute sketch of Columbia Center. Five minutes was all I could stand in the cold!

Demo: Planning the Dry/Wet Sequence

Here's the scene: Half of Mt. Rainier visible from our upstairs sundeck on a
remarkably clear afternoon.

After I’ve finished a sketch, I sometimes think that the process I used for that sketch might be helpful to someone else if I explained the steps, but I don’t think about that until after the sketch is finished. Last week while I was standing in the blistering heat, sketching Mt. Rainier from our unshaded sundeck, it suddenly occurred to me that if I took photos along the way, the sketch could become a demo. I wrote a more thoroughly detailed demo on my urban sketching process a few years ago, but that day was cool and comfortable, so I could be leisurely. This sketch happened more quickly because I wanted to get out of the sun, so the demo emphasizes the importance of planning the step sequence to save time as well as to achieve better results.

 

Steps 1 and 2: Blocking, rough drawing, "licked" wet-on-wet sky

Step 1: Blocking and rough drawing

Using dry watercolor pencils, I blocked in the composition – Rainier, the utility pole, the rooftops and the foliage (see palette below) in my Stillman & Birn Beta sketchbook. In retrospect, I would have left the utility pole for later, but it was such a prominent structure in my view that I drew it without thinking strategically. (I never seem to learn this lesson.)

 

These 7 Caran d'Ache Museum Aquarelle pencils comprised the palette used in this sketch (and probably 75% of
my urban sketches).

Step 2: “Licked” wet-on-wet sky

(Sorry that I don’t have a separate image of this process; at the end of Step 2 was when I got the idea to take process photos. However, a previous “licked” sky demo has more details about this technique.) Since I knew I wanted to eventually draw power lines over the sky, I needed the paper to be completely dry by then, so I chose this point to work on the sky. Using my water spritzer, I sprayed the top half of the page generously. (My favorite spritzer is a small bottle that used to contain hand sanitizer.) Using a waterbrush, I pushed the water around the mountain and foliage line as closely as possible. Then I quickly “licked” color from the pencil tip (Caran d’Ache Museum Aquarelle 660) with a waterbrush and washed color onto the wet page.

 

Step 3: Selective activation

Step 3: More dry color; selective activation

Using dry watercolor pencils, I continued adding more pigment to the rough drawing, mainly on the foliage. At this point, I’m always tempted to activate the color in the foliage because that’s the most fun part. However, after being premature with this step many, many times, I’ve finally learned to wait until after I’ve selectively activated the parts that I don’t want to turn into a blurry mess.

In this case, I wanted the blue base of the mountains and darker blue land below it to remain distinct, so I used a waterbrush to activate just those parts. (This was the point when I wished I had waited to draw the utility pole; it is dark enough that I could have drawn right over the blue instead of having to tediously cut around it as I did.) Once dry, the activated parts are not waterproof, but they remain stable enough that they will not blur when more water is spritzed over them.

 

Step 4: Spritzing foliage 

Step 4: Spritz foliage

When the selectively activated parts are dry, it’s time for the fun step: spritzing. First, I spritzed into the air to see which way the wind was blowing, if at all. (It’s annoying to aim at your sketchbook, fire, and have all the water blow back onto you.) Holding the book at arm’s length, I sprayed the foliage areas lightly and evenly. The first bursts of activated colors are so exciting and rewarding that it’s always tempting to keep spritzing repeatedly, but resist. If the page gets flooded with water, all the colors run together into a big muddy mess. If you see unactivated areas later when the initial spritzing is dry, you can always spritz again.

 

Step 5: Add final details

Step 5: Details

Using dry pencils, I added a few details to the houses and finished with the utility wires. The completed sketch is shown below. It took about 45 minutes.

Completed sketch

Upstairs is the New Downstairs

 

7/7/25 Mt. Rainier through an upstairs window

My routine on clear mornings is to go upstairs before breakfast to see Mt. Rainier. Now that the windows are clean, my joy in this ritual has increased tenfold. On Monday, it was warm enough that I could have stood on the front deck to make this sketch, but I looked through a window instead – just because I could.

Material notes: You may recall my posts from a couple of years ago when I put together a compact portfolio of select sketch materials that I could keep downstairs for use in the evenings. My need for this “downstairs studio” is explained in this post, and the filled portfolio is shown in this one. Although the original need for it went away, I kept the portfolio intact.

My "downstairs studio" is now my upstairs studio (used on the floor
in this mostly empty room)

In an amusing and ironic turn of events, my downstairs studio has become my upstairs studio! Since moving my studio down to the main floor, I’ve (almost) emptied that former studio room and the former bedroom (which I now use only for yoga and workouts). Although I haven’t sketched any sunset skyscapitos lately, those upstairs windows are where I would make them. I had brought my portfolio upstairs for such occasions, and it came in perfectly handy on Monday when I spontaneously felt like sketching Her Majesty.

Like a Hug

 

5/11/21 Mt. Rainier from Maple Leaf Park

The last time I sketched Mt. Rainier from life, I had been feeling bitter, angry and sorry for myself about the pandemic, and I needed Her Majesty to give me a well-deserved kick in the head, which she did. This time, it wasn’t a kick. It was more like a hug, and I felt my heart swell with joy and gratitude for all that my life and this world offer me every day. Every minute. Whether I deserve it or not.

Demo: Sequence for Spritzing Watercolor Pencil

Demo sketch

Several months ago when I sketched a peek-a-boo view of Mt. Rainier from our upstairs deck, I had enough forethought to take a few process photos that explained one method for planning the water-activation sequence when using watercolor pencils. The critical point is when I use a spritzer, which is my favorite way to activate foliage because it retains more texture and sparkle compared to dab, dab, dabbing with a waterbrush.

The issue is that it can be difficult to aim the spritzer accurately and confine the water to a targeted area. Adjacent parts of the sketch can be unintentionally sprayed, causing those details to become blurry when I want them to remain crisp (here’s an example of such a mishap). In the Mt. Rainier sketch, I used a waterbrush to activate the parts that I wanted to keep sharp and let them dry completely. Although activated watercolor pencil pigments are not permanent, they are far less soluble than dry pigments. When I spritzed nearby trees, the crisp areas were minimally disturbed.

That’s one way to keep the crisp areas from blurring. Another way is even more effective, but it takes more planning, which I don’t always remember to do. I explained the process a couple of days ago with the sketch of the North Substation tower, but I hope the steps below will be more thorough. This time I used the sketch with a tiny view of Green Lake that you saw on Wednesday:

Step 1 - block in: I like to use a Payne’s Gray Faber-Castell Albrecht Durer pencil for blocking-in because it’s harder and retains a point better than my usual Caran d’Ache Museum Aquarelles. As you can see, I don’t draw much with the initial block-in – just the large elements that I want to scale accurately to fit the composition on the page. (Sorry that the marks are difficult to see . . . I do the block-in very lightly.)

Step 1: block-in

Step 2 – draw tree and spritz-activate: I forgot to photograph this step, but instead, I’m presenting here the images I made for my workshop (which, sadly, was cancelled), which are probably clearer than any photos I could take in the field. Image 2A below is a tree drawn with dry pencil. In Step 2B, it has been spritzed just enough to activate the pigments while still retaining texture and sparkle.

Step 2A: dry pigment applied

Step 2B: spritzed

By contrast, shown below in image 2C is a brush-activated tree, which has lost most of its texture (this may be the look you want; I tend to prefer a more textured look). Image 2D shows what can happen if you are over-enthusiastic in spritzing – the pigments will float away in a messy puddle. Take care to spritz lightly, wait a moment for pigments to activate and settle, then spritz again if needed.

Image 2C: brush-activated

Image 2D: result of over-enthusiastic spritzing

A note on the spritzer: My favorite spritzer originally contained hand sanitizer, but it was purchased several years ago, and I can’t find the brand anymore. Ideally, use a spritzer that delivers a fine, even spray. Make some heavy swatches of watercolor pencil pigment and test your spritzer before using it on a sketch. You can vary the concentration of the spray by moving your sketch closer or farther away from the spritzer. I hold the spritzer about a foot and a half away from the sketch.

Step 3 – “licked” sky: I spritzed the sky area generously. Working quickly before the paper dried on this warm day, I “licked” pigment from the Museum Aquarelle Middle Cobalt Blue (660) pencil with a waterbrush and used the brush to apply the pigment to the wet paper. (This step is similar to the wet-in-wet technique with traditional watercolors.) I showed more details of the “licking” process in another demo a few years ago. The small refinement I’ve made in recent years is shown in the second image below: I’ve sharpened the pencil with a knife to expose as much pigment as possible, which makes the “licking” more efficient.

Step 3: pigment "licked" from pencil point with waterbrush and applied to wet paper.

pencil sharpened with knife to expose more pigment core

Step 4 – draw the main elements: While waiting for the sky and tree to dry, I drew the other elements, avoiding areas that were still damp. If you try to use watercolor pencils on paper that is damp but not glossy-wet, it’s truly unpleasant! The pencil point skids around without applying color, and if you rub too hard, you could damage the paper’s surface. If the pencil hits a slightly wetter area, it leaves a mark that might be unintentionally too bright. As with watercolor paints, it’s worth it to wait patiently. Note that distant foliage is left dry to keep them less vibrant and therefore in the background. By contrast, activation brings the closer tree forward.

Step 4: draw remaining elements, avoiding areas that are still damp

Step 5 – finishing details: After the sky and other areas were completely dry, I drew wires and other details.

Step 5: final details added

If you try this, please let me know how it goes and whether you like the results. This demo is similar to the one I wrote a few years ago except that I’ve improved and refined a few points.

9/4/20 completed sketch