It may well be that one reason I’m sticking with Summer until her last official day this year (see my last post) is the activity I’m launching myself into (or should that be “lurching into”?) shortly after Fall arrives: making another attempt at walking a section of the Via Francigena and taking a Sketchbook Illustration workshop in Paris.
My protestations to the contrary, then, Fall has made its way into my early September days, the ones that are officially Summer’s territory. I’ve been taking advantage of the good weather to walk across the city (in Summer dresses, bare legs, sneakers and sandals), training up readiness to stomp up and down Tuscan hillsides next month, hoping for panoramic views of Kodacolour autumn tones but expecting there may also be Fall rains and muddy slopes to contend with. I’m excited and a bit apprehensive, and exploiting Summer’s ease not only to get my legs and feet ready, but also to practice sketching in situ, en plein air.
On our 49th anniversary a few weeks ago, for example, walking from the dentist office to a romantic and celebratory lunch, I stood against a wall across the street from a gracious apartment building in Vancouver’s West End. This is a densely occupied neighbourhood, but not so many residents passed by me on the sidewalk, and none paid me any heed; in a few minutes, I’d lost any self-consciousness and hushed the inner critics.
Strangely, I’ve found, as unhappy as I can be with a sketch as I’m starting out (“Oh, why did I put that line there?” and “Yikes, I should have done that in pencil, the proportion’s all wrong!”), if I remain stalwart, commit to the process and simply add another mark, and then another, I start to see an image emerge, one that pleases me, that makes sense to me, however wonky it may be. And I remind myself that — especially for a Sketch Journal — that’s what matters. Anyone I might care to show my pages to will not likely have seen the subject I’ve chosen, not, as we say, “in real life.” And even if they have, they haven’t “seen” my subject, the one that I experienced in the moment I stood with my fountain pen and sketchbook and lost myself trying to express what I was experiencing.
Just for the record, however, I’ll share with you the photo I took after I’d sketched . . .
and to be clear about my process, I used pen-and-ink only while on that sidewalk, drawing across facing pages of my mini-sketchbook. When I got home, I added some watercolour, then carefully tore those pages out and glued them into my larger sketchbook, adding some text, some elements from the restaurant’s card, and some lettering practice inspired by a WildInk workshop.
That page was fun to put together, and I’m happy to work my way through these very reasonably priced sketchbooks (by Opus, a regional chain of Art Supplies stores) which I use for everyday (but not daily 😉 journalling. The paper can take a light wash of watercolour, although if I’m not careful, it’s going to wrinkle. Marker ink will often end up showing through the other side of the page, but I work around that with collage. And the cover is a heavy cardpaper, so I only use it at home — it would be awkward and wobbly to sketch on while standing.
For the Paris workshop, I’ll be using a watercolour sketchbook, though, so it’s time to get past my hesitations with those. The cost of the pages has been a deterrent — the “preciousness” factor which makes me more judgemental of what I’m sketching on them. And just getting used to the way various media work on the different kinds of paper. Even just deciding whether I prefer Portrait or Landscape-oriented journals. . . and which size do I feel comfortable using or do I feel suits what I want to do with the pages. . .
As it turns out, however, despite the cost of the pages, I’ve somehow accrued a small stack of watercolour sketchbooks that are woefully unfinished. So I’ve been using these last weeks of Summer to work my way through the empty pages . . . and also, prendere due piccioni con una fava (to take two pigeons with one bean, as the Italians say), working my way through old travel photographs to find sketching subjects.
As it happens, I have a superfluity of travel photos to choose from. I remember years ago, having my SIM card transferred from one smartphone to another, being astonished to hear the Sales Assistant comment that he would often be transferring several thousand photos. Mine were numbering in the low hundreds at the time, and that higher number was scarcely credible. But these days? I currently have over 6000 .jpg files! Caspita!
Many of these were taken with social media sharing in mind, many shots of a single subject to ensure something Gram-worthy. I snapped many others because something stirred me and I wanted to remember it or to be able to come back later to think more about it, perhaps write about it — digital images cost nothing, at least not in terms of film . . . but now I have years and years of accumulated photos to cull.
So these last few weeks, I’ve been going through the files, consulting my handwritten travel journals to fill in context, deleting, deleting, and more deleting (and occasionally, dipping into Deleted Files to “Recover Image.” And as I go, I’ve been pulling photos that I can use to practice what I learned in two recent Travel Illustration workshops I took online, both by Lucia Leyfield, one on Lettering and one on Doors and Windows.
A couple of these sketches you may already have seen on my Instagram account (where you’ll find a few more that don’t appear here). I haven’t added captions to most of these other than what you can see in my handwriting on each page.
As you can see from the example above, much more practice is needed before my skills match my ambition. . .
But I was pleased with the page below, which nicely blended tips I’d learned in both the Lettering and the Doors and Windows workshops.
One last photo — given that my project is about memorializing images I’d already memorialized in the shutter-snapping, I’ll leave you today with my sketch, from a photograph, of the memorial to the courageous and inspiring revolutionary fighter, Anita Garibaldi.
Layers and layers here of the past being carved or sculpted or photographed or sketched into the present . . . and thus nudged toward the future. As my end-of-summer activities are preparing me for my autumn adventures.
I hope you’ve enjoyed this peek into my sketch journals (and my process) . . . and I’m pleased to report that I’ve finished filling one (a happy feat considering I started it in 2015) and am now filling the empty pages of a sketchbook I began in 2016 (and yes, I do see the problem).
I’m curious now about photo-management in your digital filing cabinets. How many have you parked in “the Cloud”? Do you cull as you go? Only snap photos very judiciously? Review regularly? Save everything? Other thoughtful comments you care to make about other aspects of this post are also welcome, as always. . .
xo,
f
I am so in awe of your sketches. You really have honed your skills and have become a true artist.
The Paris workshop sounds like fun! Hope you enjoy the walking and have a lovely trip.
Author
Aw, that’s kind of you to say, Leslie, Thank you!
Happy 49th anniversary to you and P., dear Frances! The golden one next year,wow!
What a wonderful adventure is waiting for you! Both the Paris workshop and Italy! If I wasn’t happy as a lark at the minute,I would be jealous!
Love your sketches!
Dottoressa
Author
Thanks, K! Isn’t it great when we’re so happy in our lives, that we can’t be made envious!!! Happy for you to be by the seaside!
I have followed your blog for some time and I knew we shared the same wedding anniversary date but didn’t realize we were married the same day and year as well! Happy anniversary! My husband and I celebrated our 35th anniversary on a cruise around the Hawaiian islands with a stop in the Republic of Kiribati. We shared a dinner table with a couple on the ship who also had been married August 24, 1974. Such fun and random coincidences!
Author
Ha! That really is a coincidence — two of my kids also got married on a penultimate August weekend which is apparently one of the most popular wedding weekends of the year (at least, I read that when planning ours, but hey! in 49 years, things might have changed!).
Any special plans as we count down to our 50th? (And can you believe how the years have gone by?!)
Happy anniversary, Frances! As always, I love your sketches and watercolors. The ghost image spoke to me particularly today, but they are all lovely and so evocative of place.
Excited for your fall travels, and that your mishap earlier this year isn’t preventing you from taking another bite at the Via Francigena.
Author
Thanks, Carol! I’m sure you see many ghost images on some of your long daily walks. (You haven’t been posting photos as often on IG — hope that’s just because you’re busy with life in a good way)
I thoroughly enjoyed this post! I have to admit, though, that it serves as a reminder or perhaps something stronger, of what I should be doing instead of watching other do it. Still appreciated, though! I love that you’re giving the walk another go. You do set a wonderful example of how to do retirement well.
May I offer a book suggestion in return? I’ve enjoyed a run of good books recently and the latest was Wash This Blood Clean From My Hand by Fred Vargas. Can’t wait to get back to my charity book store to pick up another by her (yes, her!).
Author
I think we have times when we want to do, ourselves, and times we need to cut ourselves some slack and dream, gather strength, whatever . . . I’m looking forward to this next bit of travel, but there has been hunkering down this summer and there will be more hunkering when I get back home. At the moment, I have a sense of being stretched, tbh. 😉
Fred Vargas, yes! I love her crime fiction (which is, really, so much more!) I’ve read all her Commissaire Adamsberg books through the years, and a number of others as well — and your comment has prompted me to look again and see that she finally has another one out (seulement en français pour le moment, malheureusement). I’ve been waiting impatiently for it since her last one. Clever, lucky you to be finding copies at a charity book shop!
I have zero artistic talent. There seems to be a block between my eyes and my hands when it comes to drawing, though I would say I have a good eye, generally. Re photos. I take a lot and regularly go through and have an edit, de-cluttering the phone. In fact, I think I am due a bit of winnowing any day now. Hope the training pays off next month.
Author
Hmmm, I’ve seen photos of your home and examples of your dress-making. . . and I would argue you have a good eye for composition, colour, texture, etc. . . and your silversmithing and hand-stitching suggest a pretty good eye-hand connection. My similar conviction that I “wasn’t artistic” was absolute until I took a one-weekend course in my mid-50s. Not saying you should try it, not saying you don’t know your own non-skills, but there are a lot of messages we take on very early that aren’t necessarily true — or even relevant — about our adult selves. Just saying . . .
I used to edit my photos more regularly, and then got behind and then got overwhelmed with the numbers. Must get back at it! I’ll follow your lead, thanks!
I admire your ability to see the beauty in the small details, the little things that make places ,objects so special. Things that most others tend to overlook. And Happy Anniversary!
Author
Thanks, Darby! It’s a tendency that causes those photos to accumulate 😉
I only snap photos very judiciously. 🙂
I like your sketch of the Beverley more than the original…it has a more relaxed and less tailored look that appeals. More scope for imagination. (And as I looked at that sketch again I noticed the text saying your implant was going well. Very good!)
Author
I was once judicious in my photo-snapping, and I’m drifting back in that direction. I mostly blame my participation in Social Media for the numbers, but that’s probably not the whole story! 😉
Thanks re the sketch — I seem to be moving slowly from beating myself up because my rendition is so far from whatever I’m trying to represent — to figuring out what is most important to me about what I see, what gives the subject visual cohesion. And also, accepting the supposed charm of a wonky line!!
Yes, huge relief that the implant base is now installed and if all goes as planned, I should have the crown in by the end of the year. Then I can get onto filling the next hole! (at least that one doesn’t need an extraction!) — How’s your dental situation going? And travel plans?
I just love your sketch journal, Frances. It must be so satisfying to both write/sketch in it and also to leaf back through it. Wonderful memory keeper. I take way too many photos. But I cull them regularly on my phone. It says they are also deleted from the I-cloud. Fingers crossed that is true or I am in trouble. Ha.
Author
Thanks, Sue! And yes, I do find it satisfying to leaf back through the travel journals — in a very different way than looking at photos.
I do find that when I delete, whether from my iphone or my macbook, it promises me they’re deleted from the icloud and from all my devices — but they often persist for longer than I’d like on whichever device I wasn’t working from. . . . Technology, sigh, keeps us on our toes. . .
I nodded and smiled so much while reading this! Thank you!
Can’t wait to hear about your autumn adventures…sketching and walking.
(Life has been busy-in a good way-lately but really wanted to let you know that I absolutely love your sketches). Xxx
Author
I really appreciate those nods and smiles, Genevieve. It makes such a difference knowing someone’s out there reading and enjoying what I post!
I love your sketch journal and wish I had some talent or skill. but too many things I want to do.
I held on to summer briefly: We had a brief burst of summer in the first week of September, and the tomatoes which had been languishing all summer suddenly started to ripen, but now Autumn feels like it is here, and I am ready for it. Besides I love fall unreasonably. Happy anniversary, a little late.
Wonderful sketches Francis. I’m amazed that you are going back to old sketchbooks and using empty pages. It’s smart economics, good for the environment, and a perfect way to get more familiar with the paper. The fact that you make such detailed notes will be very helpful years from now. It will be clear that not everything is from 2015, let’s say, by the dates in your notes.
Love the lettering and I look forward to seeing the progress you make with it.
The boat color in Soporific is stunning.
The sketch from your anniversary is lovely and will be the best souvenir of a special occasion.
I’m far behind in my online reading (a job contract is keeping me busy), but I hope to catch up with your posts today. Reading this one makes confirms that this is a good way to spend a rainy day.