I’m writing from Portland, Oregon, this morning, and just as the last time we visited this city, snow was beginning to fall in Vancouver as we drove away from home. . . Last time we were here mid-February, and I’d hoped for early spring but instead was treated to a week of rain. Given that January is firmly mid-winter, my hopes were more realistic this time. . . Let’s just say that I bought a new umbrella at Powells Books yesterday and many raindrops have already bounced off it. . .
That last Portland post shows a hotel desk festooned with my various projects: piles of books to read, sketchbooks to doodle in, art supplies, journals for writing, and a knitting project. Below is the 2020 version, and you’ll note that I’m pretty consistent.
In that 2019 post, I also shared my sketch of the electric kettle I’d brought along– because you all know about me and my tea — and as I write, I’m drinking tea made with that kettle and served in my own fine bone china mug (Traveling by car means more luggage for a 5-day trip than for eleven weeks in Europe. Eye-roll emoji needed here).
A big difference from that mid-February trip last year is that in this second week of 2020, I’m only just engaging schedule gears after the disruptions of December’s Paris-Rome trip, the holiday season, a bad cold. My fitness program is almost at full speed now; we’ve stocked the fridge and pantry for healthier food choices, and I visited the dentist, the optometrist, and two spas last week (Christmas presents! Whee!), so wellness is in hand.
We resumed our Italian classes last Saturday, and my French classes start up next Monday. I got the turn-of-the-year summaries written and postedhere (I love the conversation about mindful shopping that has developed n the comments) and here (If you’re looking for book recommendations, my 2019 Reading List might be a source). And our calendars (we integrate ours on Google Calendar, and I recently bought a renewable paper one for my desk) have time blocked out for the grandkids, both after-school visits and weekend gigs to cover parental getaways. . . .
So I’m almost back to speed. . . but did you notice that my schedule hasn’t much accommodated the “creative pursuits” I’ve been working to nurture the last few years. Especially writing this post, I can see I’ve been focusing on activities that are safer, in many respects. They’re challenging enough — my gym workouts and walking or running require discipline and they’re physically demanding; the Italian and French lessons take regular commitment and exercising grey cells; writing the blogs, ditto. . . .
But if I’m honest, those are activities that I feel more secure about being able to succeed if I only put in the time and effort.
The sketching — drawing, painting, whatever the tools/media — I’m so much more likely to fall back on a deeply harboured belief that I do not have the necessary innate talent, much as I’ve read and heard — and believe, intellectually — that I should focus on Process more on than Product, and that drawing or sketching regularly will bring skills no matter my natural talent.
As it happens, I’ve only sketched and scribbled four pages of my Sketch Journal since the plane landed on December 20th (I did a few ink sketches in my travel journal while away) .. . Haven’t picked up a paintbrush since November. . . .
Looking at last year’s post, I can see that–by February of the year, at least–I was much more engaged with my sketchbook, enjoying the process of observing and mark-making, translating my experiences onto a page via images instead of words. Looking at that post yesterday morning, here in the hotel, I resolved to get myself somewhere with my mini sketch kit and, at the very least, draw, perhaps even paint a bit.
So, I dressed for an outing . . .
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| Those are my new J Crew pants, the Black Watch-tartan wool ones I mentioned last post. The sweater is Eileen Fisher, a 2018 purchase, and I bought these shoes in Portland in 2017. |
and headed to Lan Su Chinese Garden, where the miserable rain became an aesthetic gift. . . check out theshort video I posted on IG for confirmation.
After walking around the garden, taking numerous photos of winter blooms and soft rainy waterscapes (I’ll put a post together later of these restful and restorative images), I nestled into a seat in the TeaHouse, which offered this view. . . .
and I sat with my Oolong and my coconut tarts and sketched. I even added some watercolour there, on site, and then finished the page back at the hotel. . . .
Before I left the garden I used the restroom, where I admired this sink
and took a Selfie to show you my outdoor garb. . .
and my lengthening grey curls. . .
Then went back to the hotel and played. . . .
And that’s it, for now. . . . My Sketching Self is back, taking steps into 2020. . .
What about you? Are you on track for where you want to be as January picks up speed? Or do you maintain a steady momentum throughout the winter and not require a restart? Are there activities that you truly want to pursue, that you enjoy once you’re caught up in, but that tend to fall out of view if you don’t advocate vigorously for them?
Speaking of which, I’m forcing myself to work out in the hotel gym this morning, although I know that the machines are different than what I’m used and I suspect I’m going to embarrass myself trying to turn them on and adjust the programs. To make sure I get down there, I dressed in my exercise gear before I sat down to write, so no more excuses. . . . While I’m gone, please leave a comment below and let’s see where this conversation goes.
Welcome back to Portland. We have some blueish skies today and no snow for you. I love your sketches and photos from the Chinese Garden. It is a magical place. If you have a chance, you should also try to go to the Japanese Gardens in Washington Park. It’s a magical, mystical experience, with multiple gardens, tea house, and ponds all nestled up and down the hills. I also congratulate you on your choice of Afuri for dinner. It’s one of our favorites. Enjoy your time here.
I am exactly where I want to be: in London. Raining here, too. But I don't care. My happy place.
Had a wild flight in last night–Storm Brendan greeted me with a memorable landing due to 40+mph crosswinds. Luckily, we had a very skilled pilot. Out and about today–a couple of hours in a bookstore and I now have five new books (so far–John Sloane's tmrw). Also bought some Rowan knitting wool which is about to be cast on some needles–taking the train ride to Scotland on Thursday, so that will give me something to do on the trip should the weather impede the scenery.
Yes, I am where I want to be–literally.
I am where I want to be…in my new-to-me home, closer to younger son and his family. Though we are functioning just fine, cooking meals, celebrating holidays, having people over, etc., we did not declutter enough before our move and are, thus, still shuffling around boxes! We are just able to hide things when we have visitors! 😛
Today's devotion time showed my handwritten note, one year ago, praying about a potential move. And, here we are! So beautiful living near grandchildren and the California coast. So much to do!
Would love to attend Alison's workshop in Tofino in March but unless we can finally "settle" in and really clear out the garage, I shall remain in California and enjoy Spring!
Do you remember this kind of adjustment/transition? How long was your island to urban transition? I should search your archives for posts regarding your move.
Enjoy Portland! On a 2017 sisters' trip, we had a memorable meal at Andina's. Peruvian food in the Pearl District. Delicious!
Charlene H
We’ve researched and bought a new sofa for our living room, replaced an old cordless vacuum that was no longer working properly and decluttered our home office, which is 80% done. All these tasks have helped take our minds off the fallout, literal and metaphorical, of the bushfires, which are thankfully coming under better control. I’m reading a variety of fiction and non-fiction and I’ve recently taken over the administration for my book group, which is under the auspices of a local library, and isn’t really a big deal, and my work as a substitute English teacher for migrants has recommenced after the summer recess. I would like to do more drawing – I took some classes in 2018 and tried to build a regular practice but did hardly any drawing last year, though I’m unsure why. I’m organising supplies and patterns to knit some pouches to be used in the recovery of animals injured in the fires. A strange start to a strange year. But the skies are overcast and we’ve had a little rain with hope of more.
I very much enjoy your posts. Working alone from home, I get the impression of having a chat in the break room with a colleague.
My projects are moving forward rockily. I didn't expect otherwise. It takes time to ingrain new habits, plus the stars have to align for some of them. But there are more steps forward than in place, and few steps back, so overall progress is being made.
As you know, it’s been snowy and cold – winter’s here! I’ve just come in from shoveling which I really enjoy (probably because it’s so infrequent). It feels meditative, peaceful and physical. And because Vancouver doesn’t really handle snow very well, I am not sure what else we’ll get up to. We had planned to see a movie (1917) and then meet up with friends at a restaurant for a birthday celebration, but the weather may have interfered.
Right now I’m drinking my tea (in a big mug) reading your lovely blog…..exactly where I want to be. 😀
Suz from Vancouver
I know exactly what you mean when you talk about activities which are easily lost from view. In my case it is the accordion practice. Although I really want to learn to play that instrument, I tend to "forget" to practice until it is so late in the day that I cannot disturb the neighbours any more. So I have declared 2020 the "year of the accordion" and try to practice at least a few minutes per day at least five times a week. Last year I found out that I can establish new habits if I stick to one project at a time. So while I am trying to make that instrument a part of my life, other things will have to take a back seat. Their turn will come (hopefully).
Beth: Thank you! The Japanese Gardens sound like a place I'd love — unfortunately, I've picked up a violent stomach bug and I think the rest of my visit will be pretty quiet. . . so much more of Portland for me to see in future.
Mary: That flight sounds dramatic — from all accounts, Brendan did some damage. . . but if you've got a stack of books and some new Rowan, a train ride to Scotland to enjoy tomorrow . . . you are in a very happy place indeed. Enjoy!
Charlene: I remember that so well, although our move came in two steps. . . But completing that first very significant move out of a family home of considerable duration. . . . as the kids say, all the feels 😉 And then being happy to be in the new home, except that it's not quite home immediately. So many little steps along the way until you know exactly where to lay your hands on a particular pair of scissors or remember where you've decided (have you decided or did happenstance rule?) to keep the Whatever. . . And the little griefs you do or don't allow yourself in the adjustment (doing or not doing both take emotional energy). I would say it took me a full two, perhaps three years, and that was with a positive outlook, knowing that the move was the right decision. I gave myself permission for the low days, but tried not to wallow. And like you, focusing on proximity to grandkids and to an easier lifestyle. You're doing really well, I'd say, and I'm sure the move will continue to bring you joy and comfort and security.
Maria: You raise such an important point about how our personal goals must be considered in a broader context, and against the backdrop of those horrifying fires, it would be easy to be overwhelmed and think that our desire for domestic order and for personal growth are not worth fussing over. Your approach appeals to me with a balance between organizing your immediate environment so that you have a comforting base from which to look forward. I'd imagine your work with migrants is satisfying, and the knitting for the animals damaged by the fire . . . no wonder you haven't found much time for drawing!
Taste of France: Thanks for the kind words — I'm so glad you enjoy the posts. It's true: it takes a while to establish a practice, but it happens if there's enough motivation and, as you say, more steps forward that back. I guess my self-prodding after a bit of analysis is to that end. . . May you continue to find the same.
Suz: Thank you! Glad you enjoy the blog (and enjoying it with tea, in a big mug, woman after my own heart 😉
I've been seeing so many photos of the snow up there and rather missing being away for the first few days. That said, I'll probably be just as glad if it's gone before we get back, although that's not likely — those weeks of slushy, then icy, sidewalks don't please me at all. Wish more folks were like you and shoveled their sidewalks!
Eleonore: I had no idea you were learning to play the accordion. What a fun goal, but you're right, regular practice is so important (I taught piano for many years, so have said this to many, many students). . . Yes, I think this is very true that something's got to yield so that I can focus on strengthening my sketching practice. I think I'm more conscious of that reality when there's a shift in the schedule as just into the New year, or at La Rentrée in September. I always found this as an academic when the 13 weeks of classes were over and the rhythm changed for marking and exams. . . and then the start-up of new classes and adjusting to a different schedule. . . I should be used to it!
Beautiful sketches. That sink is gorgeous!
Love those sketches. Hope you’re feeling better. 😊 I get the whole trying to get back on track thing. It was so much easier when the new semester took care of that for us. Still coughing up a lung here in Ottawa. Hopefully the pufferI got today will help with that.
P.S. Puffer as in “inhaler” … not a coat. More’s the pity. 😩
Quick question Frances- please tell me what that intriguing brush with a spring in its barrel is. Saw in on your Instagram 3 days ago. What is it called, how do you use it? Is it the only kind of brush you use? So glad you are getting back to sketching/ painting. Ugh to the stomach flu.
A.in London
Thanks, Jen!
Sue, I do hope that inhaler helps — I know you want to be off skiing soon. . .
A in London: What looks like a spring in the centre of this Water Brush Pen are actually the threads where it unscrews to refill the barrel with water. It's great for watercolour for quick sketches when out and about, although you need a good sponge or cloth if you want to change colour much (to clear off the tip of previous colour).