Writing is easy: All you do is sit staring at a blank sheet of paper until drops of blood form on your forehead. -- Gene Fowler

Wednesday, March 31, 2010

Bus Stop Sketching

This morning as I was writing my Morning Pages I decided to sketch the kids at the nearby bus stop on a piece of watercolour paper. It's hard to see details from this far, looking through the screen in the window of my study. I tried to get basic shapes, quick sketches, and made notes ala Gabi Campanario as to the colours of things.

I think a better plan would be to use a sketchbook and just do a bunch of speed sketches of various things the kids are doing, then later use one or two of them as the basis for a painting.

It's hard to sketch kids at a bus stop at 8 in the morning. They're in constant motion, save this morning for a few minutes when they clustered around the crossing guard to investigate what I think was a dog. It's a whirlwind of colours and shapes that's nearly impossible, so I believe, to represent in mere two-dimensional art.

They chase each other back and forth. Though I can't hear what they may actually be calling to each other, their voices drift to my ears over the noise of my loud print server and other street traffic. One child, presumably a girl, judging by what I could make out of her clothing, stood out near the curb away from the others, her arms pulled inside her off-white sweater, swinging from side to side, flapping the empty sleeves in the breeze. I've seen kids do this before. I've more than likely done it myself in my childhood. But the image was intriguing - the light coloured torso, turning back and forth, with flapping fabric waving wildly through the air. It's clear in my mind, but, I suspect, will prove difficult to capture on paper with my sketching pencils.

It feels good to be able to sit here and type all this today. I've been underwater for a week or more, held just under the surface most of the time. The sun is breaking through the clouds and I have a plan of action today. The trees and bushes are budding, the flowers are blooming. It promises to be a nice finish to the week in my part of the world, and I pledge to take advantage of it.

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