This was a lovely drawing experience. At about 7:15 this morning, I strolled to the park with my dogs and a snifter of iced coffee, sketchbook under my arm . The heat had not yet risen, the birds and squirrels were at play, and the homeless guys were still asleep on the lawn. I sat on a bench by the playground to draw the old dead tree that seems to have been left by the grounds crew because it is so picturesque.
I drew with the usual Lamy Safaris, alternating back and forth between bold and thin, while my hounds bayed at big dogs lumbering by. After half an hour of drawing, I came home, made my breakfast, and added some sum-i ink tone and a few droplets of watercolor that was dried up in one of the cups of my palette.
It reminds me of the feeling of one of my favorite illustrators, Ernest Shepard.
One of them insisted on sitting in a mud puddle on the lawn for a very long time. I hope it’s okay.