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.

barcelona in ink

Yesterday, Nina said something that I feel accurately sums up the experience I had in Barcelona— "there is a before and an after Barcelona." I had such an amazing time exploring, meeting talented artists, making new friends and reflecting on my life decisions and recent and ongoing artist's block. Being able to talk and listen to Lapin, Nina and Miguel was the most valuable and memorable part of this trip, and thumbing through their sketchbooks was incredibly inspiring. I've missed being around other illustrators, artists and designers— the exchange of ideas and art with others is so necessary for inspiration and motivation. I feel revived.

Had the volcano in Iceland not erupted when it did, I wouldn't have met Lapin, Nina or Miguel— the timing would have been off. What I thought was bit of bad luck turned out to be the best I could have hoped for. Indeed, I feel that my life and art post-Barcelona is moving to a new beat.

Thank you Lapin and Lapinette, thank you Nina, thank you Miguel, thank you Barcelona.

Lapin draws me on the terrace.
See Lapin's sketch of me on his blog.

the curve of a clavicle

When Lapin asked me if I might feel like a bit of figure drawing, my heart leapt out of my chest. To say I love figure drawing would not come close to how I feel about the human form on paper. To say I'm passionate about capturing muscle, fat and bone with a pen, crayon or pencil, does not express the flutter in my heart and belly when moving my fingers across the page, within the curve of a clavicle.

On the metro to Jaume I, Lapin, Nina and I warmed up our creative muscles with a little sketching, unaware that we were being carefully watched. As we returned our sketchbooks to our bags and hopped off the train, a young guy came running up to me with a piece of paper and an enormous grin. I have no idea what he said to me, but when I looked at the paper he thrust into my hands before running back to his seat, I was overwhelmed. I managed to look up just in time to catch his eyes and exchange smiles before he was sped away.

That's Lapin in the hat, sketching me sketching a passenger!

In a narrow alley stands the humble building that housed our mid-morning treat. The Cercle Artístic de St. Lluc was founded in 1893 by a group of prominent artists that included Antoni Utrillo, Alexandre de Riquer and Antonio Gaudí, and was frequented by artistic big shots like Joan Miró. I loved watching the white and silver-haired artists with their thumb-printed wooden boxes of charcoal, pads of thick paper and eyes squinted in concentration. To think we were drawing where Miró drew...


After sketching the morning away, we meandered over to a lovely nearby café that had the most exquisite pasta and home-made ice cream. Nina, Lapin and I got out our various art supplies and took to drawing on our paper place mats during our post-pasta coffee.

Lapin's drawing of me sketching The Girl with the Thong.

Bellies full, we headed out to an art supply store where Urban Sketchers Bologna correspondent Miguel Herranz, aka Freekhand, met up with us. As luck would have it, Miguel was in town the week I was, and I not only had the opportunity to meet him, but to draw with him. I've been a huge fan of Miguel's for ages— so you can imagine how thrilled I was to sketch with him and listen to his stories. Miguel, Lapin and Nina are all such talented and inspiring artists, I felt so honoured to draw, eat and chat with them.

I was reminded of something Picasso once said: "Inspiration exists, but it has to find you working." While my move to Istanbul has been an exciting turn in my life, I've somehow hit a block with my artwork. I feel inspired to travel and experience new things, but not to draw the way I had been in San Francisco. I find it hard to focus and get to work, I have difficulty bringing the bucket up from the well of my mind. Inspiration seems to be walking by. When Nina, Miguel and Lapin shared their sketchbooks and thoughts with me, I was amazed by the amount of work that had flowed out of them— and it wasn't just the number of pages and books and ideas that impressed me, but the absolute beauty of them. I'll never forget the chills I got when Lapin pulled open drawer after drawer of a file cabinet, each packed full of sketchbooks in all sizes. Indeed, inspiration must find your fingers moving, your mind racing, or else it passes you by.


As Miguel, Lapin and I sat down on Passeig de Gracia to sketch the Modernist house Manzana de Oro, we asked a passerby on the sidewalk if he would be so kind to take our picture. He introduced himself as Valentino, and announced that he would do one better. Valentino sketched us.



A most marvellous day of art and conversation ended with a glorious gazpacho from the sumptuous kitchen of Lapinette. Wine, art, soup and laughter with friends on a warm May night. Does it get any better than that?

salinger under the magnolias

After stepping off the airport bus in Plaça de Catalunya, I thought I'd head in the general direction of the home of sketcher and illustrator extraordinaire, Lapin, with whom I was staying during my six days in Barcelona. I've been a fan of Lapin's for a long while, and was thrilled and grateful to be living with him and his lovely wife Lapinette during my stay. This was the first time Lapin and I would meet face to face, though we've known each other through Urban Sketchers for quite some time— Lapin is the Barcelona correspondent, and I of course, belong to Istanbul.

I walked to the red, bat-bedecked Arc de Triomf, marvelling at the beauty and tranquillity of the tree-lined streets, the wrought iron balconies that adorned the face of every building, and was delighted to hear a familiar sound. A cackling, laughing kind of sound, followed by that sudden flash of green— Barcelona has its own population of wild parrots. The parrots of San Francisco were a positively improbable, magical sight on those grey foggy days, and though Istanbul too, has its own small flock, the number in Barcelona is amazing. While they've always seemed so extraordinary elsewhere, they seemed appropriate under the Spanish sun.


Parc de la Ciutadella is Barcelona's central park, containing within its green borders a small lake, a zoo, a natural science museum, and many shady trees perfect for curling up under with a book. It has been ages since I've lied in grass— perhaps it's because I live so far from any of Istanbul's parks, and because we have all sorts of crazy insects that seem to enjoy antagonising people. I've missed this simple pleasure. Since I wasn't meeting up with Lapin until much later, I planted myself under a beautiful magnolia tree, and opened up my copy of Franny and Zooey.


I suddenly realised I was waking up— In my warm contentment, I had dozed off, and lost my place on the page that was now folded against my chest. The sky was full of wispy battleship clouds and the chatter of green parrots.