Tony, the tutor of the travel sketching classes I attend, sent out a page of suggestions for daily sketches to keep us busy, as we cannot attend classes right now. I took a week to produce my first sketch; the figs I posted about last time. The tea cup, which was actually first on his list, I was keen to do next. I love nice china, and think a cup of tea tastes so much better sipped from such a cup. I seldom use tea bags as I prefer the flavour of leaf tea. Combine the two, add a friend to share the pot, and the experience of sipping a cup of tea is even better. Add a piece of homemade shortbread and – perfection. Continue reading
I would have written more posts of an arty nature if I hadn’t been so busy keeping to a different kind of writing deadline. For those new to my posts, I began a story about my father a couple of years back and I was never diligent in keeping to the schedules I set myself. Well, finally I decided that enough was enough (see my post, Deadlines, Oct 25th). Yes, it’s true, an amazing thing, for I have been keeping to that self-set deadline, of finishing the draft of a novel by mid-January. I have found the going sluggish at times, not with the writing itself, but with the research and detail I need to keep this story authentic. Continue reading
The past weeks have seen various family members come and go, each group staying a few days, making for a very busy time. This has meant, however, my ideas for new posts have been like jelly waiting to set. That was, until yesterday, when I was invited to join another of Tony McNeight’s sketching classes, the subject, linking typography with watercolour sketches. He asked me to bring something to sketch which held a special meaning. Continue reading
As I pulled art pad after art pad from my folder and turned the leaves, I smiled, laughed and occasionally grimaced. I found sketches of my children, pets, and articles from around the house. The more I looked the more I realised the stories I’d been telling through my art. One story was perfectly clear. Continue reading
I have been writing a story for sometime now about my father, John Frederick Lingard Fowlds, who died when I was a teen. He never got to know how I, or my brothers and sister turned out as adults, or ever got to meet any of our children, and grandchildren. I began writing his story, fictionalised to some degree, to give the wider family some idea of what kind of person he was. Writing about him has been relatively easy, as he was a funny, warm and loveable man. Very artistic too. The hard part is the loss I still feel for him after so long, and maybe the reason I am taking so long to write his story, is that I don’t wish to lose him again. Continue reading
I am to be visiting Spain in April, for a second time. Last time I went with an old friend to attend a month’s teaching course in Barcelona. I loved Barcelona and had always contemplated a return. When I learned late last year of a 2019 Sketch Spain trip, I didn’t need any persuasion to add my name to the list. My husband is coming with me this time, with his camera, while I shall join a small group of sketchers. To build some impetus, and ideas for how I’d approach my travel diary, I joined Tony McNeight’s class for a map-drawing exercise as he thought this a good way to familiarise oneself with a new place. We were to emulate a schematic drawing of Devonport, using any style we wished, though keeping to the preferred mediums of watercolour and ink (see at end of blog). Continue reading
As I wrote a recent post about trekking on Stewart Island, I mentioned my old boots, which brought up memories of the time I had worn them trekking in the foothills of the Himalayas, over twenty years earlier! That got me thinking of that month in Nepal. It was my first journey to a country far from home; a country where I would be the foreigner speaking a different tongue. I had dreamed of such a journey since childhood. As an adult, I wished to challenge my status quo, and when the opportunity presented itself to visit this eastern kingdom, I knew I couldn’t turn it down. Continue reading
While researching for my last post, I opened a file I had not touched in a while. It contained several drafts and assignments for a travel writing paper I had completed through a New Zealand university. I opened each in turn, quite pleased at the diligent student I had been. But something intrigued me about one assignment in particular.