under a cloud of apple-scented smoke

Javier sketches while Lapin exhales from a nargile pipe in Ortaköy.

drawing the world

I was delighted to receive an email from fellow Urban Sketcher PeF, who was flying into Istanbul from Lisbon with three of his talented sketcherfriends: Pedro, Cláudia and Cate. The five of us spent a drizzly, warm evening behind the Aya Sofya, swapping sketchbooks over çay and chatting about art, the cities we love and just about anything that came to mind. We walked down to Eminönü to feast on fish sandwiches in the dark, and decided to see how much sketching we could accomplish on the Galata Bridge between rain bursts.



I managed to scrawl out this very messy sketch of a couple of the bridge's ever-present fishermen before the rain started to fall. We packed up up our books and pens and darted off to the funicular towards Tünel, in search of a café to carry on with our conversations and drawing.

I'm so grateful to Urban Sketchers for connecting me with such wonderful people— people full of life and warmth, people who I have this sketching addiction in common with. In a few weeks time, two Urban Sketchers who became dear friends of mine, Lapin and Javier, are coming to visit. I can't wait to go drawing with them— I deeply admire their skill, talent and commitment to their art. You may remember Lapin from my Barcelona adventure, whose generosity gave me a sofa to sleep on, delicious food in my belly (whipped up by his charming wife Lapinette), and six days of wonderful conversation and quiet sketching. I met Javier last March, when he came to Istanbul with 50 Spanish designers and artists to sketch and tour the city. Javier is one of those people with whom you find hours just melting away in conversation and laughter— a kind soul with mad talent.

If you haven't yet heard of Urban Sketchers, I highly suggest you visit our site when you've got a few hours you want to fill with stunning and inspiring artwork. We're a non-profit organisation of location sketchers with a mission to "show the world, one drawing at a time." Visit us at www.urbansketchers.org.

ada çay

It was Javier's last night in Istanbul, and I wanted to take him to one of my favourite drawing spots— the tea garden in Cihangir. We sipped on fragrant sage tea as we picked out our subjects from the colourful crowd. I find that ada çay lends itself well to long periods of sketching, as it's caffeine-free— I can't tell you how many times I've gotten ridiculously wired from glass after glass of çay, my hands drawing trembling lines. Turkish tea is powerful stuff— beware.

the other side

I remember the few instances when I caught someone sketching me.
Once I was on the D.C. metro and I noticed that familiar up and down head bob out of the corner of my eye, as a guy was moving his eyes from a sketchbook to my face. I felt my cheeks burn— I tried not to act nervous or ruin his drawing by shifting away or becoming unnatural. It was an odd feeling, being the one drawn. Another time I was sketched in San Francisco while arguing with an ex of mine— which was uncomfortable for several reasons— but when the sketcher showed me the frantic lines of my anger and wild hair, and the curves of my ex's relaxed posture, the perfect capture of the moment made us all laugh.

Sketching people is intimate. There is a connection made somewhere between the eyes and the hand that holds the pen. I am not concerned with likeness when I draw, but more with holding onto that moment, that expression and feeling in a person— their essence. Sometimes the connection is so powerful that I can find a kind of perfection in my drawing, and other times it just doesn't work.


I love these portraits Javier sketched of me.
It's an honour, being on the other side.

sketching eminönü

I met Spanish sketcher Javier de Blas in Eminönü for a chat, a coffee and a lot of sketching. There is nothing more fun than sketching with other sketchers. Most of the time I draw alone, or try to scrawl one out as fast as I can when I'm with non-sketchers. It's so nice to just be able to draw at my own pace, not having to rush somewhere or feel like I am neglecting someone, just draw, sketch, paint— and seeing the different techniques and styles of other artists is an invaluable experience.






As a lover of ink, I seldom paint on-site, but decided to give it a try when Javier got out his compact watercolour palette. Eminönü at sunset was just too tonal and colourful for a pen— and I must say I'm pretty pleased with the results. While warming up in a café, we decided to sketch each other.


Please click on the images to see them larger.

a day's end

The Kapalı Çarşı and I have had a long relationship— I've been getting lost in its labyrinthine alleys since I was seven years old. I know almost every street, every shop, and yet if someone were to ask me where that shop that sells the marvellous Afghan bracelets is, I would have no clue of how to get there.
I know the façade, I can see it and the faces of the shopkeepers clearly in my mind, but where it is— well, you just have to end up there.


I met Spanish sketcher extraordinaire Javier de Blas at the Bazaar for coffee and a swapping of sketchbooks. Javier is a professor of drawing for designers at the Escuela Superior de Diseño of La Rioja in Spain, and has come to Istanbul with fifty of his talented students to explore and sketch. While we chatted and sketched, the Bazaar slowly dimmed and grew quieter, as shops shut down for the night. Never, in my years of intimacy with this maze of delights, have I ever seen it close. Tourists vanish like vapour, shopkeepers systematically and precisely relocate their wares from outside their shops to in, and the resident pigeons fluff up on their wires.


Outside the Kapalı Çarşı, night falls, and hungry people hurry toward cafés and meyhane.