Daily Habit

Cafe 360

I’m falling back into good habits. For years I’ve been doing a drawing every day, even if it’s just a sketch that takes a minute or two. I think it’s like a singer running through her scales each day, good practice. But lately, I’ve fallen out of the habit and although I’ve been doing a lot of drawing, they’ve tended to be more complete drawings, often doing several at a time and I’ve neglected the quick little daily practice sketch. So a few days ago I dug out my tiny flowered sketchbook and I’ve been randomly sketching wherever I’ve been. These two women were scribbled at a party celebrating the wedding of two old friends, who were tying the knot after 25 years together. Marvellous. 😀

That’s sage and golden marjoram behind the sketchbook, I photographed it in my herb pot in the garden.

The Man In The Cafe

man in cafe

Husb and I often pop into the cafe upstairs in Waterstone’s bookshop, for a coffee and a chat in the comfy seats. I often have a quick scribble as people are generally absorbed in what they’re doing and I can sketch without them noticing. Here’s a recent one, in my tiny flowery sketchbook, it’s about a size A6, maybe a bit smaller. I photographed it in my herb pot in the back garden, on top of the sage and golden marjoram.

Squished

squished

Our very last visit on our recent trip to Berlin was to the Kaiser Wilhelm Memorial church, which is in fact 2 churches. The newer church, built around the ruins of the older, has a spectacular – and huge – statue of Christ, designed by Karl Hemmeter, dominating the space. I had a quick scribble but underestimated how much space I needed for the spread of the arms, so I had to seriously squish them to fit into my A4 brown paper sketchbook. There was an organ recital going on when we wandered in so we, Husb, two great-nephews and myself, sat in the awe-inspiring space and enjoyed some classical organ music. Lovely.

 

Like Nana’s Range (might be distressing)

Crematoria

As Husb and I walked around the Saschenhausen Concentration Camp in Berlin last week (on a Sandemans Guided Tour) I sketched what I could on the move. It made it easier in some ways because I could detach myself slightly from my surroundings. A lot of the camp was destroyed by the Soviets after they took control of East Germany, but some parts remained, although badly damaged, like the crematoria that were used to destroy the bodies of the tens of thousands of people who were murdered here. Their bodies were originally shipped out in trucks to crematoria in the city, but one truck overturned and spilled bodies across a street so these crematoria were built so that the citizens of Berlin wouldn’t have to see such a distressful sight again.

All that’s left are a few small brick walls, the black metal ‘ovens’ and the metal girders that supported the brick structure. This was the point where I broke down. The ‘ovens’ look for all the world like the black iron range in my Nana’s kitchen when I was a child; happy memories of her kettle always bubbling away and goodies coming out of the little oven. Horror can look so ordinary and benign!

My parent’s generation lived through the war, many died on all sides. It is our duty to them to make sure it doesn’t happen again. These vile attitudes are on the rise once more in Europe. We have to stop them, we have to safeguard the future.

 

 

Astro Turf Grazed Bovine

Kat Trussler

Husb and I went to a talk by artist Kathryn Anne Trussler at Elysium Gallery this afternoon. Her exhibition, “Astro Turf Grazed Bovine“, is amazing and definitely worth a visit. It runs until June the 17th.

I had a quick scribble while I listened, into my little flowery sketchbook. I photographed it next to a red pepper so you can get a sense of scale.

sketchbook

 

Just Like Home

Rain And Horror

Husb and I were in Berlin in a heatwave last week and we visited the Saschenhausen Concentration Camp in one of the Berlin suburbs. The temperature had been up to around 30° Celsius, way too hot for a bunch of gingery Celts but the skies grew dark and there was a sudden, very fierce, thunderstorm. Being Welsh, we just stood there in the pouring rain, just like home. Then we turned around and noticed that the rest of our tour group were all huddled for shelter at the side of one of the huts.

Concentration storm 2

I carried on drawing into my brown paper sketchbook. The rain spattered the conté crayons and made the drawing quite fuzzy, which I really like. It prevented me from getting bogged down in detail and forced me to take an emotional approach to the subject, three poles set into the concrete square that were used to punish the poor souls imprisoned in this hellhole.

Crowd Watching With Cale

Cale 1

Husb and I went to see the legendary John Cale in Liverpool recently. It was an amazing gig- definitely one ticked off the bucket list. It was just a couple of days after the Manchester bombing but, despite the presence of armed police, which was quite shocking, the atmosphere was brilliant. I sat and watched people queuing and of course I had to have a scribble. I always have my sketchbook with me.

Cale 2

My Hero

Kathe

Husb and I went to Berlin for a few days last week and spent an intense few hours at the Käthe Kollwitz Museum. I love her work and her life is an inspiration, she never relinquished her belief in social justice despite the enmity of both the First and Third Reich. I took a few minutes to draw from one of her bas relief bronze casts, using black, white and sanguine conté crayons into a brown paper sketchbook.

At The Ragged School

After yesterday evening’s vigil for those murdered in London, Husb and I went up to the old Ragged School to see an exhibition by artists who have just completed a residency at University of Wales Trinity Saint Davids, or Swansea Art School as it was when I graduated. The show includes some fantastic mezzotints by artist, printmaker and animator Chris Harrendence. It’s open all week, until Friday and definitely worth popping in if you’re in Swansea.

Safwn Gyda Llundain / We Stand With London

Llundain 1

Just over a week ago, I stood in Swansea’s Castle Square to draw the vigil for those murdered in Manchester. Who would have thought that we’d be holding another vigil so soon? This time we stood in torrential rain. The water poured down the page of my brown paper sketchbook which liquified the conté crayons, giving them a softer, more brush-like effect than that of dry paper.

Llundain 2

It is so sad to attend these vigils, but we must come together in peace and kindness, otherwise the extremists will have won.