Gnarly - or - How My Family Inspires Art

I bought new art supplies again Saturday - markers & papers & a Moleskine sketchbook to see if it's really so wonderful.  The art this past week has been mainly random doodling, patterns and lettering.  There's a struggle going on between a realism sketchbook and art journaling.  More on that battle soon.

For now - a bit of the additional vacation art I promised.

South Rim of the Grand Canyon.  Looking out from the Watchtower, you will see a bare dead tree.  My sister-in-law declared it "gnarly," which, of course, instantly transported me to the 80's.  The squirming branches begged to be sketched.  So I did, and even briefly had an audience of two foreign tourists.  Later I found a photo of said tree on the back of a GC book we brought home.  I'm so glad I took the sketchbook everywhere.  Now I have my own version of what is apparently a well-documented plant.

The next day we left the canyon and stopped in Williams, Arizona, an old Route 66 town with plenty of interesting restaurants and shops.  After a meal of juicy burgers & tea, we walked across the street to a little quilt store.  (A request of my seamstress mother.)  There was a small quilt-covered bed just inside the door and a sign that instantly had my illustration bells going off.  Back on the road - I pulled out the sketchbook and recorded the words & image stuck in my head.  Again, yay for the traveling sketchbook!

This one's for Mom.
(Ignore the thumb, I'm already tired of this hardbound won't-lay-flat sketchbook!)

I can't draw THAT big!

The past couple of weeks have been a challenge to the finding-my-artist challenge.  We were preparing for vacation & then spent several days with family in the Southwest, including the Grand Canyon.  I did not make art every day, but I made a lot more art than I ever would have on vacation, since that would normally have been none.

Proof I need to practice, practice, practice.

One Grand Canyon day, my sister, husband and I got up at dawn so I could create, she could write and he could meander with the camera.  We ventured into the 28° morning (lots of layers).  I found a wide flat rock to perch on, laid out my supplies and brushed on the first bit of color.  I'd love to say it was lovely.  It wasn't.  It was colorful, but it was hilariously awful.  The sun was rising fast & my little bit of watercolor practice before the trip did not prepare me for the speed needed to mix the color & water just right.  Plus I like to play with the paint - remembering now why I prefer oil.  I finished up what I could, set it aside and picked up the pencils . . . much better.  Back in the comfort zone, I held my pad in the air & sketched for nearly an hour.  (Which later caused shaky arms - wow, art fatigue!)  My sister typed while I drew and we were both taken aback by how difficult it is to capture the enormity of the canyon.  It likely would've taken all day to record the detail my eye could see, especially for this slow poke artist.  However, breakfast was calling and we needed to meet up with the rest of the gang.  "You know they have artist retreats here..." she hinted.  Hmmm.

Into the canyon through the trees.  So MUCH to draw, so little time.