sketching by the galata bridge

While I huddle beneath my yak wool blanket and sip masala chai in an attempt to cure the nasty cough I've acquired, I thought I'd show you the last sketch I drew. Ten days ago, when I felt peachy keen, the sun was making a thrilling appearance. In celebration, I took a stroll down to the Galata Bridge for a fish sandwich and a little drawing. The light shifted between blue and a cool yellow, giving the Golden Horn a metallic sheen. Gulls competed for scraps of food, while silver headed cormorants slipped silently into water in search of fish.



As soon as I put down my pencil, the inevitable happened. A huge splat of green and white landed on my left arm— thankfully nowhere near my sketchbook or çay. I'm not sure why people consider it lucky to be mistaken for an avian feces receptacle, but hey. It's better than getting upset over the nastiness on your sleeve, isn't it? 

just a few sketches

Get ready, because here they come.

by the golden horn

Hello, home.

sketches with sketchers

Now that the Italian Sketchers have returned home, life in Istanbul has returned to its October grey. I was delighted to be around fellow sketchers again, as it can be quite isolating and demotivating in Istanbul, having failed at finding other sketchers who will actually show up when you invite them to draw with you. We visited my favourite tea garden, the Firuzağa Çaybahçesi, we wandered around the colourful, crumbling streets of Balat, and we sketched the B. Arda, much to the bafflement of the boat's owner, Bülent, who was working intensely on something metallic aboard the boat. We gathered a crowd of curious fishermen and passerbys, who praised us with many a "Vaaayyy!" and "Çok güzel!" and "Harika," some trying to snap pictures of us with their phones. After some time, Bülent came ashore to offer us grapes, on a small porcelain platter.

Sketching the B. Arda.

I think I need to look into airfare to Rome!

art and laughter

Wandering around Istanbul with nine Italian sketchers for a weekend results in abdomens sore from laughter, tired feet, icicle fingers which struggle to hold pens and brushes, and one big, happiness. There is so much to say, so much I want to share about the last few days, but I am struggling to find the words. We feasted, we clinked glasses, we explored, we invented jokes, and we drew.

I am eternally grateful to Urban Sketchers for connecting me with so many wonderful people over the past three years. Grazie, Italian Sketchers— I'll see you in Rome one day!

Art and laughter.
You couldn't ask for much more.

Stay tuned for the sketches!

near and far

water and sky

crossing the golden horn

Stretched lazily across the Golden Horn in its rusting cyan splendour, is the Galata Bridge.
The smell of fish and sea, the deep-throated laugh of a fisherman.

city of grey

under grey skies