I've been taking advantage of the lengthening days and going outside after dinner, walking the roadways of my youth
twilight here is a beautiful thing, the sky of changing blues always tinged with various shades of pink and purple depending on the clouds and the dark silhouettes of the trees
I forgot just how many trees there are in this subdivision, built in the 1960s when people only cleared the forest in the spot where there house was to be built
everywhere you look tree branches are silhouetted against either the snow on the ground or the sky
below is a tree branch against the snow, which also looks blue in the fading light
too cold to do any sketching outside but I'm practicing my drawing skills inside, cozy and warm,
copying sketches from a drawing book recommended by a friend:
I love drawing by copying sketches from a book - it's almost meditative in a way and there's a sense of ease in it; I'm not trying perfectly capture a tree or rock I'm standing in front of so the pressure is off
it's more about practicing shading, angle, and pressure - playing with different pencils to see what they can do and not at all about finishing
I work on them for as long as I feel like and when I'm tired of it I move on
the other night I started a bit of stitching, inspired by the colours I was seeing and the landscape of lines: the outlines of the mountains, telephone wires, streetlights, trees, roadways etc. etc.
not replicating anything, just lines in colours on a grey linen that reminds me of the dirt on the roads and the dark smudges mountains and hills where they aren't covered with snow
not finished but no plan for where it's going either
on some of the evenings walks I am noticing things that trigger memories - the other night, walking by where our old house was and the vacant lot next door (which could never be built on as it's solid bedrock), remembering climbing the trees and picking wild roses in summer and rose hips in winter, I found this little branch so I brought it home and did a quick sketch in a small journal I plan to add to in the same manner over the next eight weeks
"evening walk along the old ways, a twig gathered from 40 - 14th Ave., the smell of woodsmoke, the sound of barking dogs... closed my eyes and I was twelve, walking to Cheryl's"
above, the pattern tread of an atv on the sidewalk
"you know you're in a small northern town when..."
it's given me an idea to explore though, based on a radio fixture from when I was a child which is still done every single day
"the road report"
an update on the conditions of the highways of the territory - there aren't very many so it's a short update but a necessary one, especially in the winter
travel is a necessity, especially for people who live in the communities outside of whitehorse and with the only options being the roadways or light planes, being prepared for travel in frigid conditions is key
it did something else though, almost equally important
it emphasised the fact we were all in it together, there was a common concern and awareness of just how few people lived here and how spread out they were and how the roads brought us together
and it's still exactly the same
yet more to ponder
3 comments:
The peaceful scenes in the locality photos reflect the gentle nature of your drawing and stitching.. and pondering. A sign I am sure of a feeling of coming home and contentment. This is a lovely post.
The tyre tracks look rather like a line of stitching, or an idea for decorative plasterwork.
So much to see!
I think you're filling up your creative soul while there. The vastness of the Yukon and your interpretation of miniscule (at least by comparison) segments of it is interesting. I've always wanted to visit the Yukon but the days of being able to are gone. Lovely that I can see it through your eyes.
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