As mentioned in the previous post, we’re off to Maine today. Here is a sketch I did to get myself in the mood and practice a bit with a little different technique, using pencil instead of a pen.
I’ll be back with loads of travel sketches for you. Stay tuned…
We’re headed off to Maine in a couple of days.
We’re gonna concentrate on the Acadia National Park area and see if we can find the time to sit still for a bit here and there rather than make it a “hang your camera out the window ‘cuz there ain’t no time to stop here” trip.
In an effort to prime the sketching pump a bit, I thought I’d sketch some stuff from photos of Maine before I go.
I’m also going to adjust my style a bit to make sketching faster. I’m going to use a pencil instead of a pen. I’ll still add watercolor but the pencil for me is so much faster I decided I’d see if that makes me more inspired to actually sketch.
That being the case, I need to practice that style a bit so I’m used to it by the time we leave.
So, I’ll be posting a few “Maine warm-up sketches” before we head out. Then I’ll be silent for a few days while we’re gone. When I return, I’ll post some Maine travel sketches. Hopefully there will be some good ones and some good stories to go with them.
Painting scenes from Italy is altogether fun. Not only is Italy full of intact, ancient buildings, it is that very aspect that makes it scenic. The thing I like most is the variations in the blocks, forms and angles of the buildings and roof lines. Everything seems to simply follow the existing terrain. A novel idea, eh?
This scene is of a place called Colle Alta. At this early point in my journey into sketching and painting scenes from Italy, I’m not going to pretend to be in tune with Italy, or that I’m some hip, seasoned traveler, in the know about all things Italian. Heck, I’ve never been there. I do eat a lot of pizza though. And I grew up happily listening to Dean Martin on the record player. So I’m just going to learn about the places I paint, and enjoy painting them, and imagine what it would be like to be there. One day I’ll go, and then I’ll be hip, and justifiably travel snobby if I so choose.
So dear reader, let’s have a tiny geography lesson shall we?
Colle Alta is the well preserved medieval center of a town of 20,000+ called Colle di Val d’Elsa. This means “Hills of Elsa Valley”, Elsa being the river that passes through the valley. The town is located in Tuscany, in the province of Siena. Perhaps one of the most beautiful parts of Italy. Certainly from the viewpoint of an artist.
Colle Alta is in the upper part of the town and is the oldest part. Have you ever heard the phrase “so and so is as old as dirt”? Well dating from the 9th century AD, this town qualifies. When I hear that phrase, my mind always conjures up an ancient scene like this.
Most people agree it is a real treat to tromp around such a place and experience the ancient-ness of it. I would certainly be one of those people. One day I will likely do that. In the mean time though, I simply look at the skyline of the Blue Ridge Mountains when I’m tooling around in North Georgia and remember that Mother Earth Herself is so dang old it isn’t funny. I marvel at the ancient geology right here at home and try to make sense of it…much like I marvel at the idea that this man made town in Italy is still intact after so very, very long.
It’s a wonderful thing that which is ancient…all of it…here or there.
Without providing details, I’ve been ill. I’m gradually feeling better and I’m going to get rolling on sketching again. Sorry for the two month downtime. Sometimes things don’t go as we want.
Callaway Gardens in South Georgia, is an unusual place. It’s an outdoor place. In Spring, it’s ablaze with azaleas practically everywhere, hundreds of acres of them. They have a very nice horticultural center, and a butterfly center, which is an entire building dedicated to housing and raising live butterflies…thousands of them.
They have miles of bicycle trails too and walking trails through the gardens and woods. And three golf courses, a tennis center, a large swimming lake and beach, a circus in the summer, a gigantic vegetable garden, fishing boat rentals, bike rentals, fly-fishing store, a couple of restaurants, a wonderful summer program for kids, a lodge and conference center, cabin rentals…it’s a resort I suppose…a family oriented resort.
I know of nothing like Callaway Gardens. It’s not a typical resort. It’s quieter and isolated in an unusually out of the way place. It’s in nowhere land really. A little town in South Georgia, called Pine Mountain. It would be safe to say there is nothing in South Georgia except a bunch of little bucolic towns, the pastoral scenes between them, and the hard to imagine ways of life lived in each little house, trailer, shack, or rare “big house” one passes on the two-lane highways. Other than that, there are a half dozen small sized cities, a few low-key tourist attractions, and Callaway Gardens.
I’ve been there a lot since I was a kid. Off the beaten path, there is this dock with a shake shingled roof, which I think used to be a boat house. It sits lonely below the overlook pavillion in the very shallow end of a small lake. It’s abandoned as far as purpose. Dirt Daubers and turtles have moved in and call it and the shallow waters beneath it home.
The turtles await food from people like me who come to visit. I had none so they just poked their heads out of the water and stared at me with forlorn eyes. The Dirt Daubers…well…they just stay in their little clay homes and buzzzzzzz apparently. There were more Dirt Dauber nests than I recall seeing in one place, twenty maybe. But only a couple of them flew about me for a moment to check me out. Other than that, they all just buzzzzzzed in their nests.
This being the first attempt at sketching in two months, it was a “therapy” sketch more than anything. So, not much in the way of humor or meaning here. The timber bracket bracing up the roof is what caught my attention because I’d not ever seen brackets designed the way these were. So be it…that’s all there is behind this sketch.
I’ll see if I can’t do better as I try to get rolling here again.
Thanks to all my readers for sticking by. You are all much appreciated!
You know those little keys you tote all over creation? Have you ever thought about what happens if you lose them?
I never thought about it until I returned from the wedding trip last Sunday.
You see, as the big ol’ jet aerolinah touched down in Atlanta, I realized my keys were in my dear wife’s purse and my dear wife was back in Destin, Florida where I left her to enjoy a few more days of fun and frolic with her friends.
Here is the damage breakdown of that little brain fart:
And, as Murphy would be remiss not to throw in his two cents worth, turns out the Weiser lock company no longer exists. Qwikset bought them and eliminated their products from their line. No more Weiser locks. Since my front door lockset was a Weiser, my front door is now the only entry door in the house with a different key. Thank you Mr. Murphy. I needed another key for the key ring.
So dear friends, take it from an experienced source…
As you concern yourselves with the catastrophes that would occur should your hard drive crash, consider also the pain in the rear that would result should you lose your keys…and of course the resulting costs.
As with your hard drive, back them up.
For me, that means duplicating each key, putting them on a ring, and burying them in the back yard (in a waterproof container). And of course, leaving a small digging utensil handy somewhere outside.
Ahhhhh, I love travel sketching.
I returned early from our little wedding expedition to Destin. My wife stayed on for a few days for some much deserved relaxation with her friends.
While waiting at the Pensacola airport I wanted to sketch someone. Places where people sit and wait are great places to sketch.
Trouble was, every time I would get a minute into a sketch, the person would up and leave. I wanted to spend some time on just one person.
Finally, this young lady sat down across from me and immediately opened a book and started reading. She read non-stop for a solid hour. I sketched for probably half that time and really enjoyed it.
I was able to tweak here and there, erase, re-draw, study her face and hair, and get a pretty good likeness of her.
She looked up over my head a couple of times at the clock. Interestingly, she looked like a totally different person from the front. I suppose that’s to be expected, but having concentrated on her profile for so long, the change to the front angle was surprising.
Anyway, I was happy to have had such a good model after all. It was a fine way to conclude my short little vacation sketch series.
Got another little trip in a couple of weeks. I’ll sketch a bunch there too.
Our hotel room in Destin had a nice little balcony overlooking the boulevard, and beyond, a spot or two of ocean peeking between condo hi-rises.
As I sat there in the morning, drinking a cup of coffee, I realized I was being watched from above.
All about were these little sparrows flitting. We were four floors up so I was a bit confused as to why they were up there. Then I looked up and saw one of the little stinkers guarding the entrance to his nest…in the eave.
At the corner of the terra cotta roof there was a cavity. And in it, a nest, the straws of which were barely visible. When I moved my coffee cup to my mouth, the little fellow popped into the cavity.
I took a look at all the other eaves within sight and those too had nests in the cavities at the corners.
Later on, I put a few crumbs on the banister and they of course lit there and flew away with the booty…sometimes to the nests.
The roofing system seemed well made and well thought out. The entire front of the roof, where it ended along the fascia, was blocked off with a black piece of aluminum or plastic the exact shape of the undulating terra cotta tiles. But at the corners, no such thought had been given.
This of course was quickly found out by the sparrows. And feeding the sparrows became amusement for hotel guests (I being one).
It is an interesting maintenance battle that builders and architects have waged over the ages against nature. Just when they think they have it licked, nature finds a way ’round it.
I suppose some maintenance manager will requisition some of those large fake owls for the corners of the building before long. Thus putting a bit of a damper on the “vision” the Architect had for the place.
