Today was the 18th Worldwide Sketchcrawl and I was out there with the other art-makers, alone because there was no crawling sketching group in my area. I was driving along roads that were either snow-lined or, more often, bordered by fields and ditches that held more water than they were ever intended to bear. What a beautiful day it was, too! Bright blue in the sky and sun lighting everything up and tempting me to stop and give all sorts of places my best shot. The only thing that kept me from the picturesque ruin of the small stone shed or the mud-coated farm machinery outside the wide open doors of an old barn was that parking space seemed to be plentiful around new and soul-less structures, but absent entirely from anyplace near the really interesting spots. I drove from one end of the city to the far corner of three towns over and criss-crossed back and forth between them, again passing places that had only architects and landscape people to thank for perfectly proportioned spaces. I was looking for a place with more randomly bestowed charm and I finally found it at the very end of a one way road. If the price of gasoline wasn’t currently higher than I would have believed it ever could have been I would have driven further, but I’d driven long enough and I stopped.
The person in the passenger seat had already suggested that I’d be further ahead if I’d left the driving and parking to them. If our places were reversed I’d find myself plopped at a place not of my choosing, I was told, and I’d be told to ”Draw something!” there. Instead of the driving and parking, my only problem would be finding the interesting element of the other person’s choice. I didn’t jump at that offer. I remarked that it was a good day for an outing and weren’t we having a fine time on our little ride? And we were, actually.
The drawing was fun, too though the sketches that I did while staying in the warmth of the car aren’t ones that I am really pleased with. I’d already lectured myself about relaxing expectations of what I produced and reminded myself that the real pleasure of sketching isn’t the drawings that result, but the lovely absorbtion in an interesting past time that sketching is. I’ve only started drawing again in the last few months after years of not using my eyes, mind, and hands for it and I hope and intend that I’ll improve a lot before next year’s Sketchcrawl. It’s lovely of you to diplomatically refrain from remarking that I have a lot of improving to do. It doesn’t really matter, though. It really was a lovely day and all of that improving means that I’ll have many more like it.
Here’s one drawing, done with a too-soft 6B pencil. I just didn’t want to stop long enough to get something better out.
