I’m having a quiet day today. It’s hot, the Orsay is closed, and I’m on vacation. So lots of sewing on my next to last quilt block going on, and a couple of around the house sketches. I found this new teapot at a pop up street flea market yesterday, and careful readers of my blog will know how much I adore drawing teapots. I’m also on a self portrait jag, so here’s one more of those. I was trying to get a little more facial expression. I remember the artist who did pastel portraits of my sister and me as kids alway said that “a portrait is a picture with something funny with the mouth.” Nothing could more encapsulate my attempts to branch out into figurative work.

I am always amazed in the Orsay by the Surrealists. I love their feel of otherworldliness that is so different from my own art. I keep thinking about their distinctive visual vocabulary (Redon with his floating flowers, Van Gogh’s portrait with the stars behind it), and I would love to achieve that feel in my own work without knowing exactly how to do it that doesn’t feel completely derivative. I saw an Andrew Wyeth exhibition recently, and he’s such a hardcore realist, but he had one amazing landscape with feathers floating across the picture plane in the foreground. It was perfect for who he was as a painter. As I’ve been looking at these details, I’m daydreaming about using them in conjunction with figures. I did the first self portrait on the right, and (aside from the deer in the headlights look — faces are still hard for me), it had something of that Medieval sense of pattern and symbolic space that I was hoping for. The second has more realistic space in it, but with the added Art Deco details I sketched on various buildings. I’m going to keep playing with this for a bit and see what happens.

I’ve been out and about sketching in Paris the last few days. I’m not trying to bring home a full show, which frees me up to follow my nose each day and do some experimenting. And also to sketch baked goods for future enjoyment. I’m using my normal 5.5” journal on this trip, but I also brought a larger square watercolor journal with real watercolor paper (above and below), which opens out to a landscape shape. It’s nice to push myself to paint a little larger and let the paint swirl. I’m using a selection of fountain pens with different colored inks on some of these (green above and brown for the pain au chocolat), and I’m also having fun with the brush pens that have two different strengths of sumi ink.

Today I thought back to the direct watercolor challenge of June and decided to paint Luxembourg Palace with no line drawing first (second one below). It’s a brain stretcher but also kind of fun.

I know I’m in Paris and haven’t actually SKETCHED Paris yet. I’ll definitely get there. But the figure sessions recently have me thinking about drawing people (as do my recent figurative paintings), and it’s been market weekend, where I hang out with musicians and draw them. Today, with all that momentum going, I did a few self portraits. This is actually pretty common for me in Paris. I have lots of time here to walk and think about the world, and somehow self portraits always spring out of self examination for me. So, for whatever reason, I did three today. Two largish facial drawings (definitely new territory for me) after one mostly full body one with a face I was really unhappy with. So I decided to dive more deeply.

This evening, after visiting with a marvelous artist friend of mine, I walked over to Luxembourg gardens and drew yet more people. I’m really enjoying these brush pens filled with ink. But I’ll post those in the morning, in the hopes that these blog pages will load better if they’re not totally weighed down with multiple pictures. Also, it’s past 8:30, and I’m on (nominal) vacation, so I think I’ll go read a book.

I got to Paris just in time for the weekend markets, which are about my favorite things here. My friends Rene and Dede were playing, and I hung out, listened to them, and drew people. Most of these are brush pens with Sumi ink in them (two different strengths), and a couple are fountain pen.

I had a blow walking over though. My spiritual home here was Dubois art supply store, which had been here since 1861. Apparently gelato chain stores draw big crowds, but multi-generational neighborhood shops can no longer afford the rent. I’m heartbroken. I’d been trying to decide which ink I wanted to buy from them this year. Many of my writer friends adore Shakespeare and Co. for its history and atmosphere. Dubois was that for me.