Back-seat drawing keeps the hand mobile. Nothing can be too straight on an ill-paved road. Nothing can be too accurate when the scenery is flying by.
I used what I had to hand—a black pen, a green pencil, a drawing pencil, some scraps of brown paper taken from an Italian restaurant’s place mats.
The most incremental changes make or break a sketch. That mountain line is really something. Would long grasses ruin it? Best to be brave and try—but don’t forget to document!
After a full day of driving, we reached Santa Fe after dark. The galleries on Canyon Road glowed with precious contents. The arid air was pregnant with hot rose and honeysuckle.
Right now we’re staying with my art teacher of four years—whom I got to work with this morning in his studio for the very first time.
It is long past time for the easel, he said. Standing up or sitting down? I asked. Always standing up, he replied. Otherwise you lose the life.
Above, my first drawing at the easel. Getting the angle of the dip pen right took a while. We’ll see if I have the courage to add paint.
And while I was drawing cows, Paul was drawing me.