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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
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from the big city.
I alluded in my previous post that November had us primed for some travel afar and away, and in as much I had picked up a new sketchbook for that specific purpose. Over the recent long weekend, the family and I flew across the continent from our frozen little Canadian city, to the big city,
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of a million little leaves.
The autumn weather and colours brought me on a long wandering walk this past weekend through the rolling single-track trails of our local river valley. Fifteen minutes of brisk strolling in the direction of the parklike preserve finds multiple opportunities to step into a wilderness that changes with the season. For a few days, literally
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of curious wildlife.
It didn’t take long for me to become a paper fanatic after I started working on my art more. One sketchbook lead to three or four sketchbooks which lead to a small stack of books, pads, and bricks, each designated for a purpose or a theme or a specific style of art. I have a