Accordion Landscapes

What to do with all those bits & pieces of drawings that one doesn't want to keep, but doesn't want to toss?

Cut or tear them up, create a collage! In this case, glue them into an accordion card structure...

I learned this from Mary, a gifted teacher, watercolor artist, & very kind woman, whom I miss. She was the one who started our Art Group in Portland. They still meet (I moved away), & call themselves "Mary's Artists. Mary herself lost her eyesight as she aged & had to stop going. 
She continued to paint, though, as her sight waned,mostly in monochrome or with 2 colors. 

We are given gifts for a limited time in this life. I'm grateful for that time, and for the gift of having known Mary. 

Happy Day of Thanksgiving.

Musical Sketching

Not much time for drawing lately. 

But once a week I do some of my favorite type of sketching.

Our local Fiddlers rehearse weekly, at least 20 fiddlers, guitarists, penny whistlers, pianists, 

Bodrahn drummers...playing mostly Celtic dance music...

They invite listeners.

I happily accept. 

My eyes, ears, hand, body & soul are happy dance partners. 

Music flows through me together with the enjoyment 

of the movement & composition of the musicians.

Multi-sensory JOY!

I warm up drawing solo musicians & then it's on to composites, 

just as a single melody is enriched by group harmonies & variations. 
For a previous post about sketching at the Fiddlers,
click HERE.

Memory Sketches: Morning October Walk

Several weeks ago,I had the brillant idea of going for a walk rather than staying stuck in a stressed mood, indoors.  As soon as I stepped out the front door the change, in the morning scenery as well as in my soul, was as intense as if I'd traveled to another country! I took no sketchbook, no camera, & I walked & gazed slowly, taking comfort in sunlit October trees.

I made memory sketches when I returned.  Even though I resisted (drawing from memory feels so insecure), it was pleasant. I felt as if I were still out there. And my memory of that morning is still vivid as I contemplate the sketches today. We had a Northeaster storm (big, heavy, windy snow) on Sunday, & a lot of the leaves I saw are gone, & a lot of limbs & even some trunks are broken. Images pass quickly in autumn, though not usually as fast as they are doing this year.