Since the intrusion of the i-Phone, Christmas dinner has become a pain. One side of the table is always busy texting. I am just about sure the younger side of the table were texting the ones around them... My efforts to start a conversation were like driving on ice, tires spinning and getting nowhere. This year I decided to skip Christmas dinner with my nephew and nieces. I headed to the studio and found an uplifting conversation with myself. Paintbrushes and pencils make great company. We talked about Elizabeth's 4-H project and getting kicked by her new calf. Learned where not to stand that day. The big white canvas that's been staring at me asked when I was going to unwrap it's gift. Christmas Day seems like a good time.
Laying out fresh colors I wondered who my nieces were texting with, while the rest of us chat away. Selecting brushes I thought of Jake’s and the day I sketched the people at the next table. Two girls in their early teens, their mother and grandmother all sitting in front of open face sandwiches, texting. Even the grandmother was texting. Wanting to see if any of them took a bite of their sandwich, I began to really watch them and compare them to those Christmas dinners at my brothers. I listened to my friends while keeping eyes on that table. Sketching might be my form of texting, I thought... George asked if I was listening, which I answered with a yes, as I sketched the figures at the texting table.
Over the years I have filled several sketchbooks while studying people at Jake’s. Before Jake’s it was sketching pretty girls at the Pizza Hut and trading the sketches for beer or a pizza. Without being aware of it I was learning about people and myself.
After a few reflections, it was time to unwrap my canvas and see my Christmas gift.
