Early spring

Being indoors is making me stir-crazy, and sitting in my car to draw seems too passive these days. So for today’s scribble, I took my pad and my fountain pen to the woods where I walk the dog. There’s never anyone there, so it’s as good as being in isolation at home. Except there are bits of snow and trees to draw. Thirty minutes was about as much as I could stand without gloves, plus it was too cold to paint on site, so I added a bit of wash when I got home.

Everything and the kitchen sink

These days the kitchen is getting more use than normal. With three of us working at home — eating, cooking, working at the counter — it’s become a hub, and often a mess. We try to keep up, but it’s hard. Today I was about to wash some of this stuff, or load it into the dishwasher, but I stopped to draw it first. And that leads me to what I really wanted to say, which is that I am trying to draw every day during all of this isolation and quarantine. Painting too, of course, but these days that’s often from photos, and that is not the same. For me, the skill that has to stay sharp is the looking skill. Drawing from life, whether it’s out the window or in my dirty sink, is what keeps me from getting rusty. (And these days, keeps me from obsessively reading the news.) This is directly with pen, and even though some of the angles and curves could probably be better, I’m happy I did it. Of course the dishes are still in the sink as I type, but it’s only us, right?

Helping hands

I’ve seen lots of sketches of rolls of toilet paper online, but these are the unsung heroes in my house — the various hand creams and rescue ointments that help repair the wreckage from incessant hand washing and disinfecting of various surfaces. What’s your secret remedy for sandpaper skin?

What do you want to learn?

I’ve been planning on creating new online lessons for some time and, with that in mind, we brought along some portable video equipment with us to South Carolina last week. Little did I know how timely my filming would be. With more people staying at home and workshops being cancelled (as many of mine were), now seems like a great time to finally share some of the things I’ve been wanting to teach.

My first go at this is an on-location video of me sketching the ruins on Spring Island. There’s so much to learn about filming on location. The sound, the lighting, the colour, and of course the unexpected — like a lawn mower going by. We are still figuring it out! But I’m happy we got the ball rolling, because now my first video is ready.

In a few weeks time I will start to roll out more lessons. They will likely be studio-based because it’s still too cold in Montreal to shoot outdoors, and because I can now say with some certainty that I will not be travelling anywhere warm in the near future. Look for a variety of lessons, both free and reasonably-priced (artists have to find new ways to pay the bills these days!), on topics that students have been asking about for years.

So my question to you is: what would you like to learn? I’ve had so many requests to create new classes as a follow-up to the lessons currently on Bluprint.com. Do let me know! I’d love to hear your thoughts.

And as a start, go on over to YouTube to catch my first on-location video. Future content will be more structured and comprehensive, but for your first glimpse, have a look at this one.

Rooftop salad

Before some of this went into a salad for dinner, I sketched the contents of my first basket from Lufa Farms. Most Montrealers have probably heard of this company because they’re a well-known success story here. They’ve converted rooftops of industrial buildings in the city into greenhouses, and they have a weekly delivery or drop off basket service. Since we are still in self-isolation at home, this was the perfect week to try a delivery basket: Mustard greens, cherry tomatoes, Boston lettuce, Genovese basil, Beefsteak tomatoes, Spartan apples and arugula. Delicious to eat and to paint.

Spring Island Spring

It seems like more than just a week ago that I was teaching in South Carolina. So much has changed in my city, my province, my country and the world since then. But it made me smile to open my sketchbook today and remember standing in the sun and showing my group how to create vignettes of the spring garden that surrounded us. And although it’s many weeks away, I’m looking forward to seeing some blooms in my own backyard this spring too.

On another note, if you are looking for a good way to fill up some of those long hours at home, here’s an link that a friend sent to me yesterday. The 38th edition of Montreal’s FIFA — International Festival of Films on Art — had to cancel their indoor event but they’ve made many of the films available on the web. For a $30 CDN online ticket, you can watch dozens of films on their online platform. I know my starter film will be this one. Films are available until midnight on March 29th.

Wheelbarrow in ink

While many urban sketchers are drawing views through their windows for the first time, I’m an old hand at this. Most of my recent versions of the wheelbarrow have been in watercolour, so I thought I’d try a version in ink. I have nothing but time these days, and there’s something quite calming about the repetitive movement of making a thousand ink lines on paper. I don’t usually use fountain pens but this was done with an Indigraph pen which allows you to use India ink because of the special reservoir of water that humidifies the nib to keep it from clogging. I haven’t used it long enough to review it, nor am I a fountain pen expert, but Parka has a lengthy review on his site.

Sketching in a time of isolation

Since returning from the US on Saturday, my husband and I are taking the recommendation to self-isolate seriously, and will be at home for 14 days. Our son, who was also travelling for work and returned home at around the same time, is also here.

It’s hard to drag myself away from watching the tv or reading the news all day long. But that can make you crazy, and very depressed. Sketching certainly takes MY mind off things. I’ve also been getting out often to walk Alice and wave at neighbours from a distance. And we’ve been cooking, catching up on household stuff, playing games, reading and watching Netflix. These are strange times indeed.

There are plenty of inspiring ideas online about sketching and staying connected during this time. There’s a new Urban Sketchers hashtag #uskathome that you can use when posting drawings you do from your window or from the inside of your house. There are also other ways to gather online — virtual sketchmeets, daily prompts, etc. — that will connect you with our very supportive worldwide group of urban sketchers.

We don’t really know how long this will last, but in the meantime I hope all of you are staying healthy. May we sketch together, in person, very soon.

A glimpse of spring

I had a little taste of spring last week when I was teaching in South Carolina. Unlike Montreal where it’s still evenly grey outside, there are flowers blooming and green buds popping out on trees.

For our lesson in sketching flowers, one of my participants cut some azaleas from her garden. It’s too cold to grow these where I live, but in the south they are everywhere. I sketched these outrageous beauties in a Stillman & Birn Alpha sketchbook, which has thinner paper than the Beta book I’ve used in the past. I like the way it takes the paint, almost like a thin hot press paper.

I also couldn’t resist painting a tiny thimbleful of violets on the table in front of me. Like Bleeding Hearts and Lilies of the Valley, they say spring to me like no other flowers.

While I was there, I also had a chance to exhibit some of my recent watercolours at an evening reception. I brought along a selection of half and quarter sheets, painted on location in Florida, Montreal, France and Cape Ann, as well as a few paintings inspired by recent travels to Mexico and Sun Valley. I was happy to have a chance to talk to people about my work, and honoured that quite a few of these will be gracing the walls of local residents.

The milky way

These days at home are the perfect time to try out new materials. Coincidentally I just received a set of casein paints for the Jack Richeson Casein 2020 online challenge.

I don’t know much about casein except that it’s milk-based, so I figured I would just jump in and try it. Using only primary colours and white, I painted a small still life on the back of a failed painting that was on Fabriano paper.

I tried painting both transparently and opaquely, since casein is somewhat like gouache. I also tried some strokes of dry brush which worked well on the textured paper. After my first attempt, I will say that this is going to take some getting used to. The paint is flat and chalky, but that could be my own ignorance for choosing the wrong surface or the wrong colours. I’ll have to do lots more playing before deciding if I like it or not. I found gouache hard to use in the beginning too, but that’s getting easier so maybe this will too.