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on a winter getaway.
It’s a long weekend in Canada and so with neither work nor school for anyone on Monday we skipped off to the mountains for some nordic-style fun in the alpine climate. We travel out there quite often. To that point, I had bought a “travel” sketchbook that I’d intended to be for travel sketching but
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of a fictional nature.
One of the struggles any artist will eventually face, I think, is that of defining a personal style. What do you draw? What medium do you use? What feeling are you going for? How do you want to be seen? A lot of learning comes from imitation of someone else, watching the technique of others
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after a run day.
I’ve been playing with a deliberately loose style, and I’m discovering that it’s a fine line between messy and interesting. My writing here does not usually mention that on some days of the week when I’m not trying to be an artist, I’m trying to be a runner. It also doesn’t really mention that I’ve
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from a cold winter walk.
It’s been a few weeks since I posted a sketch. In fact, it’s been a few weeks since I painted or sketched anything of any worth. That’s what happens when a beloved family member, even one who is a hundred and one years old, falls into a three week decline leading to their passing. Grief
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of a hundred little bugs.
Did I mention that I have a biology degree? It factors into this post, so it’s worth mentioning now. Bachelor of Science with a specialization in molecular genetics and minor in entomology, convocation 1999. I can’t say that I’ve used it much in my career, though having it has opened numerous doors. And occasionally it