What Saturday Morning Felt Like

We woke up early Saturday morning and looked out the window to see if there was a  mist.  The day before  Jon had lost a morning’s worth of photos, most of them of the sun coming through the mist.  So when we saw that the mist was back we got out of bed and hit the road.  I love getting up before the sun,  but have a hard time dragging myself out of bed unless there’s a reason.  Driving Jon around and sketching from the car was that reason.

I see it as a game.   I pull off the road then Jon gets out to take his pictures. I give myself the same amount of time to draw as it takes him to leave the car and come back.  I draw what’s in front of me whether it’s appealing to me or not.  But sometimes I cheat.  If I don’t get to finish  my drawing by the time Jon gets back,  I’ll sometimes go back to it instead of drawing the next scene we stop at.   I never remember what was there, so I just make it up.  Like the sun in this last drawing, it never has and never will rise or set above that barn.  But it makes the picture less real and more alive.  It’s as if I put a piece of myself in the drawing.   It may not be accurate, but this is what Saturday morning felt like to me.