Friday
Jul212017

Morning nap

I am fortunate for this: dogs sleep a lot.

Wednesday
Jul192017

Little dreamer

I am not a dog person. Depending on the temperament and behavior of the individual, I often find them intrusive, annoying, or outright offensive and intolerable. At best, they make me anxious because I worry (a global problem for me) about whether or not they need to poop or pee, are hungry, lonely, or sad. I had a German Shepherd in an earlier life, and much as I loved him, I worried about him all the time. My own neuroses make me less than an ideal pet owner, but with my son living at home and having a three year old female white pit bull, I am reluctantly pretty much just that.

Yet while I am inconvenienced and sometimes exasperated by Ellie, there is something redeeming about being responsible for another living creature. Not quite the same but on a similar spectrum to becoming a parent, which I also thought I had the wrong disposition for. So this morning, when I saw Ellie sacked out on Gabe's bed, my thought was that I am grateful, if sometimes grumblingly so, that she is with us and, as have my children, she helps me to remember that the effort of caregiving can be rewarding beyond all measure.

 

Tuesday
Jul042017

Wisteria

The tangle of wisteria hanging on the corner of Ina's kitchen, done after an early morning bike ride through Rock Creek Park in Washington, DC on the 4th of July. 

Tuesday
Jun272017

Recent sketches, June 25-26, 2017

Monday
Jun122017

Rock Creek, Washington DC, June 11, 2017

In the northwest quadrant of thrumming Washington, DC, Rock Creek is a surprising refuge from the city's noise and traffic. On the year's hottest Sunday afternoon so far, we forced ourselves to venture out. Parking the car in a small shady lot, we walked down the creekside trail, sheltered from the blazing late day sun under a high canopy of broadleaf giants, until we found a quiet bend in the stream. A pebble strewn wash where I could sit and experiment with this unwieldy medium, a grassy patch of bank where Ina could read the Sunday New York Times and enjoy the soft burble of shallow flowing water. Walking back through hushed woods in the failing light, an owl call echoed through the trees.

Regressive results on paper that I reluctantly post here as an exercise in humility, but a lovely little outing to remind us that we can find beauty in unexpected places.

thumbnail sketch, colored pencilwatercolor, 14" x 10"watercolor, 11" x 7"