Author: squwetchy

in a multi-layer circus.

About a thousand people walked by me as I sat on the ground in Piccadilly Circus on London one afternoon in July and did the sketch for this piece. People stop to take pictures of you while your sketching, look over your shoulder, and generally treat you as just as much part of the chaos of the scene when you’re doing that. To say I was nervous as heck would me an understatement, but that’s

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of cool thoughts.

It’s been hot outside. Isn’t that typical of us? Complaining in the winter that it’s too cold then complaining in the summer that it’s too hot. Maybe there is some kind of philosophical mindset we all need to embrace about living in the moment and being happy with where and when we currently are. I opted to embrace cool thoughts in the heat wave, and painted a winter scene (a second attempt of my last

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of transcending realities.

While everyone else is lamenting the creep of artificial intelligence into our lives, I took a different tactic and asked ChatGTP for some advice on how to become a time travelling, intergalactic artist. She told me the following A time-travelling artist would have a unique perspective and the ability to draw inspiration from various eras and cultures throughout history. Their art would likely reflect a fusion of different styles, techniques, and themes from different time

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in a dimly lit space.

Not only have I been thinking of all the new things I can do with the skills I’ve learned in my watercolour class, but I’ve been thinking such thoughts in the context of our upcoming trip to Europe where (so I’ve heard) there are plenty of neat things to sketch and paint. Of course there are. I made a trip to the art store last night, and when the “dude” at the counter asked me

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of west coast wetness.

The goal of taking a class has always been, obviously, to learn. Incremental self-improvement is fine, and I’m a huge advocate of digging into a problem on your own and trying to wade through the weeds to find the harvestable vegetables in the mess of it all. That said, having one’s hand held a little bit is never a waste. The fifth Thursday night of my eight week class happened last night, and after a

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