I briefly went to an art city presentation tonight. It was good to see some old friends. I couldn’t stay for the whole thing but the number of people there was impressive.
I had my sketch book with me, so decided to do some urban sketching. The first drawing was hard because I started drawing the front view of a man’s face. The trouble was he made eye contact! I couldn’t tell him what I was doing, so it was a case of dodging around and quickly glancing over at him. The other figures were easier, I round it hard to indicate it was crowded so drew partially obscured figures in the background to try and make it more realistic.
The second drawing was done in a large area where there were tables and chairs set up and a screen for video to run. I looked around and spotted this paper lantern, full sized, bull at the back of the room. I liked the way the structure contrasted with the regular bricks and metal grills. What an amazing lantern!
We don’t see ourselves as others see us. Mother, father, sister, brother, everybody has an opinion of you, but no one can know what’s in your heart.
Imagine a world of telepathy where everyone can read your mind at will. They can see your triumphs and tragedies from your perspective. But most people’s minds probably don’t have clear concise thoughts. If their mind is anything like mine it can be full of confidence at one minute and then dispair the next. You don’t get a blueprint when you are born of how to think. We all need to cut each other a little slack sometimes.
Last year we went to Apedale light railway and enjoyed a day looking at exhibits of the anniversary of the 1914/1918 War. These are black and white sketches I did. Such an interesting day I thought I would post some of them. Each one has people included. I don’t just draw landscapes if I can help it, I like to include little portraits. When I do urban sketching I will try and include people to give a sense of scale.
It’s dark outside, in two minutes it will be the longest day of the year. In one minute……
There’s shouting outside, raucous farewells from the pub we live near to. A car revvs loudly in the night, then screeches of up the hill. A woman screams with laughter, so loud it sounds like distress but it turns into a loud giggle.
The longest day has arrived, well actually it did an hour ago. But because we are now in British summertime, our 1am is 12 (midnight) in the rest of the timezone we are in.
The noises have faded. Perhaps they have gone home. Taking their fag ends with them I hope. That is something that really annoys me since the smoking ban. People smoke outside and then discard the cigarette butt’s.
Someone is walking past, heavy shoes Thudding on the pavement outside like a rushing heart beat.
I’d better get some sleep, today, now, is a sad day, a relative passed away a few years ago and I remember it being the 21st of June, the longest day. My memories are stirred every year at thus time.
As a candidate at the recent local elections count I was surprised by the lack of seating for candidates, counting agents and guests inside the sports hall being used for counting the vote.
The staff counting the votes were all supplied with a seat but members of the public were not.
After being on my feet visiting houses for most of the day from early morning onwards, and particularly because I am no longer as fit and healthy as I used to be, I felt the lack of chairs or other seating was at the least an oversight, and to be honest pretty unfair. People ended up sitting on the floor but not everyone can do that.
I managed to grab a chair early on during the count but was not able to use it through the whole evening. I shared it with others who were equally exhausted because of the work they had done over the day.
I think the local council should have taken into account the age and fitness of the candidates and their supporters. There were some quite elderly people there. People who stand for local elections are representative of the whole community. There has to be some level of fitness but standing up for 7 or 8 hours for the count is surely not feasible.
How many faces are in a crowd?
Do they look at me?
They are so solemn, so quiet, so still.
They could be real, they could be ghosts,
Conjured from the past.
The fist thump, bump of my heart
As I see your eyes, glinting
Back at me,
Deep in my dream, hundreds
Turn to thousands.
Heads multiply like cells
Mitosis and myosis?
I don’t know if you are real
But you scare me.