Whereas our nearest town, Stamford (5 miles away) is beautiful and filled with green spaces and Georgian stone architecture, our nearest city - Peterborough - is quite grim and grey, filled with lots of shops and malls that lose their allure to me after about five minutes of enthusiasm at the possible benefits of shopping in a city. There's a wonderful cathedral, though, and I did these drawings at the point where the cathedral close meets the shopping precinct.
Brush markers (and watercolour washes in the first two) in untitled sketchbook.
This was about a three minute sketch (who's counting) done while I was waiting for my car to come through its MOT test. This mother was so serene and good natured, or am I fantasising?
I still have so much material I'd like to use in my photographs from Israel, but will stop mining this source when I come to the end of this sketchbook...
Brush markers and watercolours in untitled sketchbook
The quickest scribbles made watching the Remembrance Day parade at the Cenotaph on TV this morning, which I've watched every year since I came to England (there's a whole article in that, but I won't write it now). Elgar's Nimrod near the beginning is where I got undone, but the quivery lines are just because of how quickly the images on the tv change. I think.
Brush markers (with a touch of watercolour in two of them) in untitled sketchbook.
Still working from photographs of Israel. I think I had such a long period in England, watching the seasons change in my garden, the things of everyday life – the dog, friends coming and going, hospitals and vets – that I am now still drinking in and absorbing the chance to see different light, different streets, architecture, people. There is the added fascination of Israel being the country where I was born and spent the first eight years of my life, so everything is at once strange and filled with a complete familiarity. This one is from the many photos (and drawings) of Shuk HaCarmel in Tel Aviv.