Sunday Girl

I know a girl, from a lonely street, cold as ice cream but still as sweet...

Sketched her on sunday... I know...I know...

Sketching, fast and slow*

Two sketches of the same girl.

One done fast.

One done slow.

Liked her hair.

* with apologies to Daniel Kahneman.

Black is the colour...

...Of my true love's hair.

Her face is something wondrous fair,

the prettiest eyes, and the dearest sighs,

I love the tube on which she rides.

Actually I don't know her at all, but the song came to mind as I was sketching her.

Swap over

I was sketching this girl on the tube...

...enjoying how her hair had been pinned up and liking how the sketch was going. And then we came to a station and while I was starting the shading she got up and left and this guy sat in her place.

And while I am also pleased with the scruffy lad's sketch, part of me is saddened that the girl sketch never got to go any further.

Which suddenly makes me wonder how many of all the thousands of Londoners there are I have never seen, never sketched.  I wonder if it's higher or lower than I think.

I have never, to my knowledge, sketched the same stranger on two separate occasions.

Lip

This girl was a joy to sketch.

She was totally focused on her computer, her hand only occasionally moving to scroll down, or nibble small morsels of a prawn sandwich.

The rest of the time she sat, transfixed, tugging her bottom lip out again and again, pinching it's fullness into a little cleft bud before just, just, letting it escape back.

And, as I write that, I am stuck how irredeemably pervy I am sounding.

I will go now.

Slow.

Been taking my time with sketches just lately. Have been in situations where I had subjects very stationary and could spend longer on them.

So spending more on shading and looking for the weight of them.

This one was about 10 mins.

And this one closer to 15 mins.

And whilst I like the end results, I have already reached the point where I can find little purpose in them. They feels somehow backwards, not progressing to any point.  Lazy, even.

Need to think more on this.

Paralympic apparel

The ultimate must have accessory of the summer.

Girl (x3) with friends in high places

She was chatting to, and occasionally photographing, an elderly man in a baseball cap emblazoned with "THE WHITE HOUSE" in gold letter.

But I couldn't get a good angle on him to add into the sketch.

They finished their coffee and left arm in arm.

Girl

I like your hair.
So neat and simple.
And I had to sketch you.

I hope you don't mind.

So neat, ordered.

Your hair.

( Channeling William Carlos Williams today we are )

Watching me, watching you, watching...

This girl loved her hair, and played with it the whole time I was watching her. Brushing it back, scrunching it up, then flicking it forward and playing with the ends of it.

And all the time watching herself in the window's reflection as her friend talked and talked.

Was she aware that, opposite her, a young tourist watched all of this mesmerized and amused ?

Who watches the Watch(ing)men ?

( See what I did there ? )

Happy Easter

And beautiful and sunny with it, How rare is that ?

This girl was fast asleep on the train the other day. Not exactly Eastery, but maybe, just ,maybe, she was dreaming of chocolate.

I can get way with that as a link, can't I ?

Have a good one.

...who only stand...

Not sure if this one made it or not, but clearing the decks for next week, so up it goes.

Apologies if this is it's second outing. 'Girl with a discman'. You don't see so many of them these days do you ?

365 - well there you are then

So, here I am. The last sketch of the challenge. Strange. Didn't think I would be posting from an (almost) snowed in art dept in Luxembourg when I started it. In truth I thought it would get abandoned half way through.

But I have enjoyed this so much, and met some great people in the process. Big thanks to everyone who has been by, and everyone who commented, and, absolutely, everyone who 'sat' for me, however unwittingly. Not done with this, but for the moment...


... one last sketch. Number 365

A girl, in the park on that brilliant summer sunday. Took a long time to choose. But, from the current cold grip to the lazy warmth of that day...

...there you go. 

365. 

Done.

what number am I up to ?

Not the most flattering of sketches, but I like it's looseness.

The sketch, not the subject..., would never want to cast any aspersions about her moral fibre, or standing in the community.

Music to my ears

La la la, de de dum, la lal laaaaaa. Ohh ohhh. Mmmmm. La la laaaa Ohhhhhhh  La la laaaa

Gripped

Sometimes I can get so lost in drawing the thing in front of me I loose sight of what I am actually doing.

Loved how this girl's hair was bunched and caught by her hair grip. And only after I had finished did the thought occur that that might have been a bit suspect and odd to look at it/her in quite such detail.

We should all LOOK at each other more that we do. Just enjoy the sight of people. I've said it before, I love PEOPLE. As individuals and as a collective. We are amazing things, and it never ceases to astound me how we go.

Looks like rain.

The forecast was for rain, so this girl took her coat.

Very wise Love, very wise.

219 - thong

Posting this one with a degree of trepidation.

I am not an old leach, honest. 

110 -111 ( that's almost binary )

Caught some students sketching in a museum the other day, They had ranged themselves across a gallery of statues, and had become as much a part of the display for the other museum visitors. People were sneaking looks over their shoulders, or just out and out standing and watching them, engaging them in conversations. And it would seem that the sketcher-watchers fall in to the same two types as the sketchers - those who do so unobtrusively, and those who want the world to know, to acknowledge them.

So I sat down, sketched the sketchers, and became part of the incidental theatre we had all created.

Really enjoyed this girl's belt and boots. I often run out of time, or space when I get to the feet, or just plain chicken out, 'cos feet are tricky creatures. So like that she is complete, although her bag lets me off here a bit.

But ohhhh... that gap of flesh across her lower back... Museums are drafty places at the best of times... she should have worn a vest. She'll regret it later in life, mark my words.

40

So, in the middle of all this snow and cold. An image from the height of last summer, in the park.
Sat opposite this girl as she ate her lunch and read her book. It was baking hot, and bench space was at a premium. As one person moved on another quickly took their place. There were people laying all round on the grass, sitting on the wall around the flower beds. Pret-a-manger sandwiches by the cart load, and the park cleaners emptying the bins by throwing one bag into another for speed. There was a school trip as well, the kids alternately feeding the pidgeons, and tormenting them.

Loads of subjects. You can almost fill a book on days like those. The whole world becomes a free life drawing class, everyone stunned into submission by the heat.