sketch of figure by emily weil

daily painting | drawing marathon

I am so so so happy for things I enjoy. Went to the Bay Area Models Guild drawing marathon yesterday and I had an enjoyable and also sad time. I saw another artist friend I haven’t talked to in years and was horrified to hear his wife recently died — suddenly, unexpectedly. In his arms. I knew them both and they seemed like wonderful and loving companions. They had a 46-year marriage and she was a very accomplished and respected painter. It hit me hard, and I am deeply sorry my fellow-artist is going through this bruising turbulence.

And I loved painting and drawing and here is one of my sketches, done with a soft, water-soluble pencil. Artists — my tribe. I am comfortable and content in a room with them. And sometimes it’s more fun to draw the artists than the model.

I keep a list of things that give me peace and it helps to look to it when I feel awful and am too foggy to see straight. Making art, hugging a redwood tree, seeing raptors — all at the top of the list. Also time with loving friends, as I got to soak up a warm afternoon with another painting and bird-loving pal yesterday in Mill Valley. Scratching my guinea pig behind his cute little ears and laughing at his chirps. Watching finches fight over a perch at the bird feeder. Seeing a pacific loon in my marina. I am grateful. I am alive, all the way. All the way.

 

 

 

sketch of rupert murdoch by emily weil

daily painting | rupert

Yesterday I got my paints out to capture the deep purple tulips on my table from Trader Joe’s. Produced two duds. So I thought I would post this sketch of Rupert Murdoch; I’m a news junkie and sometimes freeze the TV screen to draw interesting faces.

Have you ever traveled to a number of places and found by the end of the trip that you were glad to have gotten a brief taste of these destinations, but never had a full meal? I kind of feel like that today, only the menu lists a number of life events that I am trying to chew thoroughly. My jaw aches a little. Maybe I should pretend I’m wine-tasting — swirl some in my mouth for the flavors and then spit it out. Dunno. Looking for my Tums®. 

 

 

 

sketch of jury room by emily weil

daily painting | assembly room #100

Yesterday was a gray, chilly April day in Oakland, and as a member of jury group #1010 I was required to show up in the Alameda County Courthouse (I argued I am self-employed, which sometimes gets me excused, but no). Here are a few sketches I did as I fought stultifying boredom, hoping I didn’t hear my name called over the speakers (but I hasten to add I believe in this kind of civic duty, and if chosen I will embrace my responsibilities — I served on a jury for a fascinating federal case years ago involving a confiscation of 70 tons of hashish on the high seas). It was an 8 hour day, and after the Chauvin trial folks on all sides are skittish, so jury selection for a trial that involves a Black man, a gun, a robbery and lots of cops is taking quite a long time. This courthouse is famous for the photos taken during the Huey Newton trial in the 1970s with the Black Panthers holding rallies on the front steps. One photo has legally-armed (at the time) Black Panthers outside the front doors; can you even imagine what would happen if that took place today? Bloody hell, that’s what. 

But that was over 50 years ago and my god I’m old. I’m reminded of comments a racist family member made, who was a judge in the 60s-70s, opining about Angela Davis. Chilling and nauseating. But I won’t rant here about racism in the US as I get kind of riled up. (Side note: I was lucky enough to have Davis as a professor for a Women in Music class at CCAC in the 1980s and she was incredible; don’t think I’ve ever met a more intelligent or thoughtful woman in my lifetime. She was the antithesis of the scary Black woman firebrand militant the media painted her as in those days, and that bit of history looks quite different in light of the Chauvin trial, yes?)

Let’s all wake up, OK? White supremacism and bigotry is real, dangerous, and rotten and needs to be rooted out, especially in police departments and courtrooms. And in our own hearts.

 

 

 

Sketch of estuary by Emily Weil

daily painting | estuary sketch

On this gray chilly day I ventured down to the Alameda farmer’s market to see if they had farm-fresh eggs — so delicious! (They did.) Sometimes my brain folds in on itself and getting out and about is a good remedy (if done safely). The farmer’s market was uncrowded and as always the selections of veggies and fruits and berries were colorful, fresh, and gorgeous (I was tempted to buy some velvety, silvery mushrooms just to paint them). I decided after my shopping foray to go to the Peet’s drive-through for a hot drink and drive down to the estuary nearby. I so enjoy this watery corner of Alameda, and there were a few men fishing off the rocks so I pulled out my sketchbook. So many happy little things to watch — gulls perched along the water, crows chasing a Cooper’s Hawk above me, huge container ships tucked in under cranes, sailboats skimming by, tugs escorting ships out to the bay. A change of scenery always is welcome, even if the view is familiar and often-visited. Feeling quite grateful to have such easy access to these interesting sights.