My mother-in-law, Lucie, treated us to second row seats at the University’s Stevie Eller Dance Theatre’s opening season show of “Color Wheel”. It’s a great show and a fabulous performance hall to watch the very talented UA Dance Ensemble take on six highly entertaining pieces ranging from the “Antique Epigraphs” choreographed by Jerome Robbins to five others conceived and choreographed by members of the School of Dance Faculty.
The dancers were all captivating and the music consistently engaging through all six pieces. The energy of these performances just begs for the listener to get involved. Some people tap their feet, some nod, and I found it’s a great venue to draw blind. With the lights down low, my eyes riveted on the dancers, the program on my lap, and a red pen, I tried capturing a bit of the movement and energy of some of the performances. Since I couldn’t see the result until the lights came back up, it takes all the worry about how a sketch looks. For a few minutes with my feet tapping and my pen skittering across the page, I felt like I was part of the performance. As a commentator cites on the School’s web site: "Tell me and I'll forget. Show me and I may not remember. Involve me and I'll understand."
This month marks the 4th anniversary of the tragic shooting in Tucson at Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords’ “Congress on your Corner” event at a local Safeway store. Six people died that morning and 13 were wounded, including the Congresswoman. The wounded were taken to the hospital where I work, University Medical Center, now known as the University of Arizona Medical Center. Almost immediately after the first patients arrived, there were temporary mementoes deposited at the front lawn of the hospital, and subsequently at the Safeway store and the Congresswoman’s office. My role in all this was as a hospital staff member who helped an administrative staff who were overwhelmed with the clinical, family, and media demands placed upon them and who needed someone to manage the growing memorials. Now, after four years of dedication to this cause including membership with the January 8th Memorial Foundation Board as their president, enduring countless interviews, and offering endless presentations, I’ve decided to reflect on the meaning of memorials.
During all this time, it became apparent that spontaneous and yet temporary memorial gestures offer the community an opportunity to re-connect with those lost and to become part of a broader community spirit. Like other tragedies, Tucson’s temporary memorials sought to reflect a community mandate to transform grief into something permanent and meaningful for the survivors and for the community who felt that their community deserved to have a lasting memorial. Over the past few years there were many memorials developed for individuals lost and wounded that day. However, the Tucson community still expected a central permanent memorial to celebrate the community’s response to the tragedy, to remember those lost and wounded, and to recall the importance of local and individual access to our government’s representatives and institutions. After many meetings and consultations with survivors, political leaders, and community representatives, our Tucson memorial planning has brought the focus to Tucson’s government center to create an appropriate memorial at the historic Pima County Courthouse where it intersects with Tucson’s central gathering space, El Presidio Park.
As our Board and many passionate volunteers continue to work on fund-raising, designer selection, and all the details required to create a suitable memorial, I am continually amazed at how much hard work, time, and money it takes to create memorials. I often wonder if those who deposited a bouquet of flowers, a personal card, a stuffed toy animal, or some personal memento during those early days of grief had any idea of the rippling cause and effect their simple gesture would create.
The world is filled with memorials created for many purposes, but during my visits and talks with memorial representatives, I have had a chance to reflect on a few common themes. Close to home is the Yarnell 19 Memorial in Prescott, Arizona that has created a variety of memorial projects to remember the 19 members of the Granite Mountain Hot Shots who lost their lives fighting a wildfire on Yarnell Hill. Flowers, firefighting gear, and other mementoes have been incorporated into a Tribute Fence, a preservation project in the Prescott Public Library, a marathon in Tucson, and an on-line memorial. However no one will ever forget the image of those 19 empty firefighters’ boots and gear during the memorial service.
The names of the 19 fallen firefighters are displayed during a memorial service at Tim's Toyota Center in Prescott Valley, Ariz. on Tuesday, July 9, 2013. Prescott's Granite Mountain Hotshots were overrun by smoke and fire while battling a blaze on a ridge in Yarnell, about 80 miles northwest of Phoenix on June 30, 2013. (AP Photo/The Arizona Republic, Michael Chow, Pool)
The Oklahoma City Memorial honors the victims, survivors, rescuers, and all who were affected by the Oklahoma City bombing at a Federal office complex on April 19, 1995 with a museum, an annual marathon, and a remarkable “Outdoor Symbolic Memorial” that has become one of the city’s top tourist visitation sites. Its lasting image is of the empty chairs to recall the lost lives that day.
The Franklin Delano Roosevelt Four Freedoms Park on Roosevelt Island in New York City is an example of a memorial that took more than 70 years to develop and for some time was nearly forgotten. It is now a four-acre memorial to Franklin D. Roosevelt that celebrates the Four Freedoms he articulated in his 1941 State of the Union address. It was designed by the architect Louis Kahn, who was carrying the finished designs with him when he died in 1974. His vision of creating an outdoor room and garden is a hauntingly silent place of personal and urban reflection with a clear view of the United Nations building and Manhattan across the East River. Its lasting image is a monumental yet quiet and reflective space between the frentic urban communities of Queens and Manhattan.
Of course no current reflection of memorials can be without reference to the 9/11 Memorial and its related memorials in Washington and in Shanksville, Pennsylvania where Flight 93 was brought down by heroic passengers. The 9/11 memorial in lower Manhattan is clearly without peer in terms of scale and impact with two massive and unforgettable square fountains that recall the missing twin towers and the adjacent 9/11 Memorial Museum with a seemingly endless line of visitors waiting patiently to experience the various memorials and tributes underground. While experiencing the countless fire trucks, building remnants, and ceremonial artifacts in the 9/11 Memorial Museum, I became numb with the unbelievable loss of life, families affected, and property literally demolished. However it was a simple audio recording that I heard in one of the many chambers of the museum that brought my emotions literally to a head. Amongst all the exhibits, this recording of a firefighter talking to a fellow firefighter on a radio during the many rescue efforts that morning was one of the more powerful remembrances that most of the firefighters that went into those buildings never returned.
Many wars have spawned countless memorials, but a memorial that continues to resonate world-wide after 95 years is the World War I annual remembrance reflected in the poem “In Flanders Field” by the Canadian physician Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae.
Although there are many lasting tributes to the war, including Sir Edwin Lutyen’s Cenotaph at Whitehall, London, it is the reference in the poem to the red poppies which grew over the graves of fallen soldiers that has become the anthem for “Remembrance Day”.
Regardless of the tragedy or the resulting memorial, it is often the simple gestures that endure. Of course different tributes affect each of us differently, but who would have thought that a discarded poetic reference to red poppies would become the lasting tribute to the 37 million dead and wounded of World War I. Of course the many other memorial sculptures, parks, museums, and other tributes are important. However wouldn’t the ultimate memorial tribute be the end of wars, the cessation of meaningless shootings by deranged individuals, or the end to whatever tragedy that becomes memorialized? Memorials are important elements of any enduring community that experiences tragedy. While they take an extraordinary amount of work and resources to develop, they do not stop tragedies from occurring. But they do bring a focus to a community spirit and they remind us that there is some meaning to often senseless tragedies.
I do not expect our Tucson memorial to end senseless shootings, but I do see a community spirit that endures across a diverse spectrum of political beliefs. We have not yet found our red poppy, but I suspect that it will emerge as we engage designers to help us bring together a community vision.
Kirby was a professor of architecture at The University of Arizona, and he made a huge impact on Tucson and many architects around the world and during his career. He was an internationally recognized architect, professor, artist and city planner, lecturing throughout the U.S., Canada, Great Britain and Mexico. However most of us (his former students - know him as an author and teacher on design communications – not just drawing, but how to communicate a design. His book, Drawing as a Means to Architecture, published by Reinhold in 1968 was a pivotal textbook for all architects and designers at a time before personal computers when all design students were trying to do perspectives accurately while designing. The premise of the book reflects an important principle that will always remain with me that “…drawing is an inseparable part of the design process, not an end in itself…”.
Although many of the drawings in the book are aesthetically stiff and precise, Kirby wanted us to know how to draw accurately so that when we did other types of drawings such as quick sketches, the fundamentals of communicating in three dimensions would be understood. His students would spend hours laying out perspectives and then work on having light and shadow touch the spaces in the drawings to understand how the spaces actually worked. His award winning church in Tucson, the Dove of Peace Lutheran Church is such an example. The building was designed as a container of spiritual light as seen in his drawing and in the resultant building.
Kirby could also do quick sketches and stressed the importance of doing doodles to explore design ideas. He knew that if you could do a precise drawing and understand how the perspective and light worked, then you could do a better sketch.
One of my favorite sketches that Kirby made for me was when we were working together on the campus planning for a new engineering complex at the University of Arizona. We were having some internal planning debates on whether the buildings should be placed tight to the busy Speedway Boulevard or set back to reflect a campus environment with a traditional landscaped lawn between the building and Speedway. Kirby knew the right answer, and he knew how to communicate it. He did a rough sketch on a piece of lined yellow paper to quickly show the importance of placing the building tight to Speedway so that an inner courtyard could be created that would be much more conducive to a “campus environment” than a traditional lawn on Speedway.
Since this was the age before computer simulations, Kirby also wanted the campus planners to understand how important it was to design all future buildings tight to Speedway, so that more tranquil courtyards could be created and buffered from the noisy Speedway by the placement of the academic buildings. Kirby believed the best way to communicate this would be to do an active video of buildings along Speedway; so he borrowed a video camera and enlisted some graduate students to take videos while riding with him as he drove his Mustang convertible up and down Speedway. Kirby was always the perfectionist and since he wanted to get just the right sequence and angles, these rides up and down Speedway eventually resulted in overheating his Mustang. However in spite of the damage to his car, Kirby made his argument, the campus planners and engineering faculty agreed with Kirby’s urban design concept – and the radiator replacement for his car never showed up as a reimbursable expense, for which I was eternally grateful. The architects for the eventual buildings won a design award, but whenever I see these buildings, I always think of Kirby’s initial planning sketch and then an old Mustang convertible full of graduate students driving up and down Speedway Boulevard with a video camera precariously balanced.
Kirby always seem to draw with a simple fountain pen and then he would add a bit of color (usually Prismacolor pencils) for emphasis. After he retired from the University, he had a chance to travel and do drawings for his own enjoyment. However, he always did his drawings carefully. I asked him once how long it took him to do some of these sketches of the Florence Duomo and Campanile. I was expecting him to say “15 minutes or so” since I’d seen him draw an idea very quickly, but I should have known that these were 1 hour drawings because he would take the time to do a proper layout to get the proportions right. He was always studying the perspective, the light, and resultant shadows.
Kirby passed away in 2007 at a time when students were doing less drawing and more computer work. But I don’t think Kirby cared too much about how design was communicated – just as long as the perspective was correct and the shadows placed accurately. Although many of us became a bit lazy in our sketching and drawing techniques, Kirby is still revered by students and architects from all over the world as an important mentor for how to effectively communicate ideas.
Oscar Wilde postulated that “Life imitates Art far more often than Art imitates Life” (“The Decay of Lying”, Intentions 1891). I’ll postulate that Mr. Wilde would have plenty to say about the relationship of art and life after a visit to Northern New Mexico. We recently returned to Albuquerque and Santa Fe after a 20 year absence, and during our long drive from Southern Arizona, we had time to reflect on art, life, and this remarkable landscape.
After crossing the Arizona / New Mexico border, we entered the open expanse of the Rio Grande valley. Life along this corridor has not changed much since we left, and it still looks haggard and difficult with endlessly grand vistas worn down by constant dry winds and infrequent rain. Yet the Rio Grande still manages to work its way down from snow melt in Colorado in spite of everyone’s efforts to tap its waters. Unlike other landscapes with more frequent rain and lush greenery on river valley slopes, this landscape is a raw and colorful blend of bare geology, vast skies, and scrubby plants. When we finally arrived in Albuquerque we could readily see the typical sprawling growth into the sceneries that we had hoped would remain pristine. However unlike other desert cities it still has a live river weaving through its urban core.
In spite of the growth at Albuquerque’s edges, the city has continued to put life back into its once neglected downtown, Old Town, and its historic districts. We experienced a corner of this revitalized energy during our stay at the restored Hotel Parq on Central Avenue (formerly Route 66) that was once the hospital for the employees of the Atchison, Topeka & Santa Fe Railway Company. The rooftop bar (the “Apothecary” with a suitable hospital aesthetic) had grand views of the Sandia Mountains to the east that reflect the watermelon colored sunsets, the endless vista of the west plateau, and the still green path of the Rio Grande. We used to live near the river many years ago so our first priority was to return to its banks and its many irrigation acequias (ditches) for a restorative sketching reunion. In spite of all the urban and agricultural pressures on the Rio Grande throughout its progression, the river still manages to flow in the heart of Albuquerque and echo with the call of birds along the river's path.
Our second priority was to reconnect with the remarkable cuisine of New Mexico that is as distinct as its landscapes. We enjoyed many new variations of New Mexican cuisine including a lunch time reunion with our favorite local fast-food chain, “Stufy’s” which still serves a perfect blend of carne adovada in a stuffed sopapilla. The busy but friendly waitress admonished us for being absent for so long and suggested we not wait another 20 years before returning. We found an endless choice of new restaurants and local foods including boutique donut shops such as “Rebel Donuts” in Albuquerque and the equally extraordinary “Whoo’s Donuts” in Santa Fe.
After a couple days in Albuquerque, we ventured north and enjoyed the landscape changes as we travelled from the stark desert of the lower Rio Grande valley and entered a landscape with hardy green dabs of piñon and juniper amongst colorful geological backdrops. Outside of Santa Fe in the Pueblo de Cochiti, we visited the Tent Rocks National Monument with its towering spires of pumice, ash, and tuff topped with hard rock cones. We hiked the slot canyon and did a few sketches of the rock formations before setting off to Santa Fe.
Santa Fe is touted as the “City Different”. Unfortunately, it has also suffered from too much admiration for its differences with the pervasive growth of unoccupied suburban vacation houses in the city’s hillsides. Still, the tiny city has managed to hold on to a walkable urban core with tight streets, vibrant shops, galleries, museums, and of course an international selection of restaurants. Again, people may first think of Santa Fe as the place for art, but it is equally the place for a unique cuisine blending local ingredients and international styles. During our morning walk down the infamous Canyon Road with all of its expensive art galleries and numerous “plunk” art bronzes, and it is still amazing how this tiny corner of New Mexico has attracted so many artists and an equal number of people interested in art. Everybody seems to be involved in art - even our bartender at the Inn on Alameda was a talented abstract painter from New York City. The Museum of Art is a veritable theme park of pueblo style architecture containing the many interpretations of Northern New Mexico’s landscapes. Each successive gallery in the city owes a debt to the museum and the city’s founders who promoted a building style and an idea of a colony for artists.
Needing an escape from all these artistic interpretations, we took off for a hike to see if we could actually get into the landscape that drew so many people to the area. Although not easy to find and often obscured by too many empty homes, we managed to find a trail that provided a refreshing reconnection to the pine forest. Further upstream, we rediscovered the Santa Fe River in the Nature Conservancy’s Canyon Preserve where nature is still attempting to hold off the pressures of growth from all the people wanting to live and experience Santa Fe's artist colony.
One artist who answered the call to this region was Georgia O’Keefe who toured, painted, and eventually lived among some of the most remarkable landscapes of the region. An hour drive north and far from the crowds in Santa Fe, we experienced a very special blend of her life and art. As we drove past ill-fated communities and misplaced casinos we entered a region of classic Northern New Mexico vistas where human developments have faded and the landscape is still distinctive. Under a spectacular blue sky with mountainous clouds, we joined the Georgia O’Keefe “Landscape Tour” at Ghost Ranch where the docents of the “Education & Retreat Center” lead a special tour of Georgia O’Keefe’s art as viewed in the places where she actually painted. Here in the country that is often referred to as “O’Keefe Country”, there is no other gallery experience that shows the connection between art, life and landscape than here.
Weeks later as I reflect on this brief tour and the few sketches of our trip, it seems remarkable that an area that is so stark and seemingly unsustainable has managed to support so many artists and visitors. Like others reflecting on this area, Northern New Mexico keeps reminding us that we don’t often have an opportunity to experience such simple and transparent landscapes or to visit a place with such a profound sense of connection to the land. Northern New Mexico is still unique and still a place where all the experiences come together in a seemingly coordinated theme of life and art imitating each other.
A year ago I met a great local Tucson artist, Apolonio “Al” Romo, and then he died. I met Al during a University of Arizona neighborhood spring clean-up project, and Al’s house was one of the clean-up projects. At the time, I only knew that the home belonged to an older gentleman who needed help. While we were working, Al came out of his house to see how we were doing and to chat with some of the students. Later he came out to his front porch holding a remarkable watercolor of a scene from the Altar Valley with Baboquivari Peak in the background. I was immediately captivated not only with the watercolor technique but also the subject matter. Lindy and our dogs used to enjoy camping in our VW camper during weekend visits to the Buenos Aires National Wildlife Refuge. We always enjoyed the peace of the valley and the view of the iconic peak in the Baboquivari mountains, an hour or so west of Tucson. I asked Al if I could buy the painting, and he quoted a price too low. So we finally agreed upon a price that seemed fair for what I thought was watercolor by a talented amateur artist. Later, when I realized his modesty concealed his real fame as one of Tucson’s distinguished local artists, I went back to see if I could give him more for his painting. He refused and seemed satisfied that I enjoyed his work. After several visits to his home, I eventually learned that he was a contemporary of the more famous Ted DeGrazia with a history of doing art for organizations and charities in the Tucson area. I also learned from an on-line 2004 article by Salomón R. Baldenegro (“Al Romo is a work of art (and paints them, too)”, that Al was considered:
…a great local Mexican-American artist…best known for his renderings of small Southwestern and Mexican villages and the downtown Tucson barrios that were destroyed during the urban renewal of the 1960s, as well as for his desert landscapes. His work has been described as “lighthearted and nostalgic, yet ornamented with honest realism.”
If you’ve been to San Xavier Mission, you’ve experienced his skills. He helped in the restoration. His mural commissions include St. Mary’s Hospital, Casa Molina North restaurant and the offices of Surgical Associates. His work also graces the private collections of many prominent Tucsonans and of former first lady Pat Nixon. Many charitable groups have raised funds by auctioning paintings donated by Romo.
I enjoyed visiting Al to see his modest studio in the front bedroom of his house. The room was filled with paint and sketches in progress. Although he was 94 years old, he became energized showing me his work and how to manipulate his Apple computer. His house was full of cigarette smoke and the detritus of a life in decline, but with his beloved Chihuahua at his side, he was cheerful and seemingly settled with the memories of a long life. He taught me the value of drawing unpretentious local scenes that became majestic with simple watercolor washes. His art seemed fresh and easily rendered. Al had that rare talent of knowing just when to stop before a painting became over-worked. I wish I could have spent more time with him, but the painting that he allowed me to purchase a year ago, still teaches me.
Thanks Al - Apolonio Hernandez Romo.
Post Blog - February 2015:
Here is an image from a recent posting from Mary Hess. Thank you Mary for sharing this delightful watercolor with us!
Post Blog - August 2015:
Nancy Alexander Koff has also contributed another Al Romo painting. This one is titled on the back: "San Ignacio" Kino Mission in Sonora near Magdalena, Mexico - Romo '73. Thank you Nancy for sharing another Al Romo treasure with us!
Post Blog - May 2016:
Here is another Al Romo's treasures found in a Tubac, Arizona estate sale by Hilda Dorgan. The subject should be easily recognizable to all as the San Xavier Mission historic Spanish Catholic mission located about 10 miles south of downtown Tucson, Arizona, on the Tohono O'odham San Xavier Indian Reservation. Thank you Hilda for sharing this with us!
Chuck & Claire in Athens on the roof of the Hotel Plaka
Greece trip: September 2009
“I don’t think one becomes an artist, I believe if one is an artist, he or she knows it. The challenge is believing that you are an artist and becoming the artist you know you can be.”
Chuck Albanese, FAIA
When travelling and sketching, I am always reminded of a one of the most memorable trips with Charles (Chuck) and Claire Albanese. Chuck and his wife Claire started a University of Arizona program that allowed them to spend summers in Europe, mostly Italy and Greece, with countless students in tow doing sketches and watercolors.
These trips became famous for all the great places to visit and the opportunity to be taught by a great watercolorist. For years, Lindy and I wanted to take the time to join these infamous trips, but we could never find the time.
Chuck conducting one of his watercolor classes
Finally in 2009, we learned that the Albanese’s were planning
another trip to Greece, so we signed up. We soon learned
that the trip included a remarkable collection of former
architecture students, friends, colleagues, and even some of Chuck and Claire’s relatives. It was more fun than we
could ever imagine, and it provided us with the time, and most importantly, the mentor to create lots of watercolors in sketchbook diaries. The trip also connected us to some life-time friends who still get together to reminisce about the trip.
Before we left and throughout our travels, Chuck constantly
encouraged us to sketch and paint constantly. He showed us some of the most inspirational settings imaginable and also how to enjoy the ordinary in special ways. He conducted daily classes,
often at a perfect outdoor plaza or coffee bar. Although Chuck’s work could intimidate most students, his carefree approach and relaxed teaching style brought out the best in his
My first sketch at the Parthenon - Temple of Zeus
As I look back on our sketches 4 years later, I am pleasantly surprised that while we never could pull off a Chuck painting, we did create a few sketches that reflect the fun and spirit of our travels through some of Greece’s most famous places.
Some Greece memories include:
Thanks Chuck and Claire for letting us join the Albanese
[For more Greece sketches see "Past Travels"]
Earl Thollander’s “Back Roads…” books are informative, fun,
and artistically inspired. As an Arizona native, I always enjoyed re-reading his “Back Roads of Arizona” book but he did many “Back
Road…” books including travels through New England, Texas, and the Carolinas. Each one filled with quick travel sketches of familiar places rendered in a unique spontaneous style.
His onsite sketches of scenery, animals, and people are constant
reminders that you can see more if you slow your pace and take some time to look carefully at the fine grain of places overlooked.
I corresponded with Earl for a short time and managed to acquire
a couple of his Arizona sketches before he passed away in 2001.
Even his letters were an inspiration with his quick style of writing on a note page that was mostly filled with a large sketch.
Earl’s travel sketches were done with a simple set of tools – an old Rapidograph pen, a fountain pen, or my favorite for the variety of lines was his hand carved bamboo pen dipped in India ink. Color was usually added afterward. His family has created a valuable web site that has a good biography and samples of
his work. He was a prolific illustrator of many books, but his travel
sketches are what inspired me to take a sketch book whenever I travel.
Earl’s web site is at:
Here is a list of Earl Thollander’s “Back Road…” series of books:
Back Roads of California
Back Roads of Washington: 74 Trips on Washington's Scenic
Byways Earl Thollander's San Francisco: 30 Walking Tours from the Embarcadero to the Golden Gate
Back Roads of Oregon
Back Roads of New England
Back Roads of Arizona
Back Roads of the Carolinas
Back Roads of Texas
Back Roads to the California Coast: Scenic Byways and Highways to the Edge of the Golden State
Arizona's Scenic Byways
Sunset Back Roads of California
Barns of California: A collection
My watercolour sketches actually started when Lindy signed us up for a weekend workshop with Kath Macauley to do “pocket sketches” (see http://pocketsketching.com). Kath conducted a fun but brilliant workshop that demonstrated a truly quick approach to doing travel sketches. Not only did she have a simple technique for quick sketches, but she had the whole kit figured out. She used a small 6 x 9 inch sketchbook that worked well with felt tip pens and watercolors, a Pilot Razor Pen, the Winsor & Newton Water Colour Compact Set, two plastic film canisters for the watercolour brush, and her specially designed kit that holds everything and also becomes a tummy pack for holding the sketchbook.
Everything was so well thought out and compact - I was hooked! The other trick that she introduced to us was the concept of letting a felt pen bleed and using that bleeding technique for effect. Below I've attached examples of her work.
She is a remarkable teacher and I highly recommend her web site and her classes – she makes everyone feel talented and special.
If you have an opportunity to take one of her classes, you will not only learn how to do quick sketches, but you will also learn great teaching
techniques. Look at the image below from our class with Kath.
She is celebrating a student’s work by placing it in a frame. How special is that!
Kath’s web site is at:
Lindy's sketch - Day 7 on the Grand Canyon rafting trip
Well that depends…for me, I spell it using the British addition of
the “u” to acknowledge the influence of my wife’s watercolours and her schooling in British schools. Lindy has been doing simple watercolours for many years, and I always watched her pulling out one of her many watercolour kits to capture a landscape. Although I loved watching her paint quick travel sketches, I kept to my pen sketches with color pencils. Watercolours just looked complicated, time-consuming, and awkward for traveling. After all, it required special paper, brushes, numerous paint, and water! I could not imagine introducing water, brushes, and wet paint to this
effort. Although, Lindy claims she is not an artist, she perseveres with her quick watercolour sketches with wonderful results. I love her approach and her sheer joy of doing travel sketches. In spite of a lifelong insistence that she is not an artist, my humble opinion is that she makes art.
Lindy's sketch - Havasupai - big kids pool
Thank you Lindy - you continue to inspire me (and influence my spelling) after nearly 35 years!
Enter your email address to receive Blog updates,
We love comments!
Please send us a comment by clicking on the "Comments" at either the top or bottom of the Blog entry you want to provide comments.