Au revoir Albertine

No time for a drawing today, but I did a lot of stuff in the garden, including dead head Albertine...

And saw this little fellow moving towards our front door

and these decorative baubels on an early evening walk

Cut from the garden

Ink pen and marker in small Moleskine sketchbook. 

Bit of a bore

I know I'm a bit of a bore with this garden, but I find the changeover of blooms over the summer, first one  then another – and with each waxing and waning a different overall palette – quite overwhelmingly lovely. And no, I wasn't a clever planner: all happenstance, really.

Ink pen and brush markers in Moleskine sketchbook. 

Summer

Not exactly a drawing, but I couldn't bear that last image to be the first thing I saw when I came into my blog, so here is summer...

Rambling Albertine on her way out

Pencil and pencil crayon in Moleskine sketchbook

Marker pens and brush in Moleskine sketchbook. 

Cuddle (take 2)

Brush markers in Moleskine sketchbook, and pencil on the last page.


I was inspired by the mutual embrace the other day. Fátima scoops Possum up, and Possum just stays put, like a fur doll, very funny. Drew these from photos I took - you can see that, especially in the first spread. There's a quality of abstraction you get when drawing from photos that is usually absent (at least for me) when drawing from direct observation. 

Calm roses

Looks like another gritty day ahead. Drawing the beautiful bunch of roses my friend Debbie brought has a mildly appeasing and calming effect. 

Brush markers in Windsor and Newton sketchbook. 

"Breezy Angels" and Albertine

Ink pen, brush marker, Indian ink and watercolour in Windsor and Newton sketchbook.

Ink pen and watercolour in Windsor and Newton sketchbook.

Brush markers in Windsor and Newton sketchbook.

My wonderful rambling Albertine roses from observation, the heaven sent friends from a couple of photographs I took when they came last week bringing (with the lightest touch and the best cheer) lunch, which we had under the awnings on the deck. Title courtesy Sid!

Garden again

Brush markers in small Moleskine sketchbook.

The garden, changing all the time. I couldn't draw the campanulas because our resident rabbits ate off all their heads. 

Poppies

Brush marker, watercolour pencil and ink in big sketchbook


There are still poppies in the fields, bursts of them. I took photos on the way back from town because I didn't have my materials with me, and then drew them at home. I don't have any red ink, I suppose I should have used watercolours.

Turning

Brush markers in Moleskine sketchbook

The flowering seasons are so short! The beautiful, pink blossomed weigela is about to turn, so tried to capture the sense of its abundance on our deck before it disappears.

Adaptation

Brush markers and pencil in Windsor and Newton sketchbook.

rearranged for a photo ... and then 

Brush markers in small Moleskine sketchbook.


I was always a city person, and I could never keep a pot plant alive, hated the darn things. But I'm a changed, and fully adapted humanoid. Now not only do I love living in the countryside, I also can't stop going into – and drawing – the garden. It's village fêtes next, I tremble to think. This morning it rained hard and I drew the cut flowers in the vases around the house... but the drawings look too coy. When the weather cleared up for a while, I went out, everything glistening with drops, the heady smell of wet soil. The small Moleskine sketchbook is fantastic because so light to hold, and I just love the way the brush markers glide over the beautiful vellumy pages. 

In the garden

I never imagined I'd get so enamoured of the garden, fascinated by the daily changes, the way one lot of blooms dies off to give rise to another – all of it unplanned of course – so that the palette is constantly in flux. I'm drawn daily, so to speak, to sitting on the ground (sometimes on a towel if the grass is wet) with a sketchbook. Dog likes to keep me company and sometimes help.

Ink pen and brush markers in small Moleskine sketchbook.

Early morning, nodding rose

Pencil, pencil crayon and watercolour in Windsor and Newton sketchbook.

I can't resist this

These are definitely not drawings. But I can't resist including them: in our garden, the last tulip and the first open rose, both taken today. 

Rough experiment

Pond

Rose and flowering chestnut

Acrylic paint and brush markers in Windsor and Newton sketchbook.

Following on yesterday's accidental experiment with gouache, I painted two sketchbook spreads with acrylic, the green one opaque, the sand-coloured one watery, but a little more substantial than a wash. The acrylic seals off the layer and makes it a bit resistant to the brush markers, which are anyhow a pretty rough tool. Makes for boldness rather than accuracy or delicacy. 

Red Robin and Baggesen's Gold

OK. It's happened. I missed a day. In fact, I had to let it happen or my obsessive personality would go into overdrive. Yesterday I was busy all day writing a catalogue text, and then I had chores and more chores to do. I didn't want drawing in my sketchbook and posting on the blog to become one of those chores. I've been thinking that blogging is a bit like standing on a hilltop and shouting that you're going on diet, or giving up smoking. Then everyone knows, and you can't go back on your word. But I've broken the spell, so now I feel a bit freer. I went back into the garden with my drawing gear this morning. 

Brush markers and watercolour in Windsor and Newton sketchbook

Lilac and sambucus on the deck

Ink pen and brush marker and watercolour in Windsor and Newton sketchbook.

The smell of the lilac is heavenly. The lonicera at the back, though fragrantissima, is, like the lacy sambucus, still only stretching and yawning. (Yes, I know the Jewish response: "what, now you're a gardener?")

Blossoms and Possum

I've spent the last three mornings, early and before it gets too hot, sitting out in the garden with my ailing geriatric hound, drawing the plants I've nurtured: this is the first garden in which I've ever been an active participant of planting and tending. We inherited some mature fruit trees: two apples and a plum. Most of the blossoms are turning now and dropping, though the plum tree still puts on a rich show of blowsy blooms: I had a real sense of carpe diem all round.

Both drawings ink pen, brush markers and watercolours in Windsor and Newton sketchbook

Proteas

Ink pen and watercolour in Windsor and Newton sketchbook.

The gardens of Kirstenbosch in the Cape province of South Africa, with the spectacular view of Table Mountain as backdrop. After the cycads, we go see the abundant collection of fynbos (fine bush) plants: restios, ericas and the astonishingly sculptural and emblematic proteas in a variety of reds, pinks and whites...

How did I get here so quickly? Um. Fibbing. "The Royal Botanic Gardens, Kew, and the British Museum have brought a small corner of South Africa to the heart of London." The collection looked beautiful, but odd. I took some photos a couple of weeks ago, and drew the proteas from them. Follow the link for

some thoughts on drawing and lying...