June 20, 2026

Here are the rules: I sketch in-person, only in the time I’m physically present, and I try to be quick and unfussy. I don’t set out to create anything publicly presentable: my sketchbook is less about technical accuracy and more about flexing muscles that I don’t often use — to look. Really look. It’s one thing to recognize an object, another entirely to observe it.

It’s fun to decide what to sketch — some of my recent subjects have been the Rodin sculptures at the Stanford Cantor Arts Center, boats at the Coyote Point Marina, and a giant swarm of bees on the stucco of a neighbor’s house. I use a fine line pen, so no erasing, and I’m trying to make it a regular part of my practice.

I see shape and shadow instead of single objects. I see lines and angles and light that put together, turn into form. The sketches themselves aren’t really the point: they’re teaching me to look at the world as marks to be made on a page. And to practice those marks until the observable becomes something recognizable. To go back to a recent theme: chicken and egg!

April 13, 2026

There’s something obstinately unprofound about a chicken, and that makes them fun to paint. They’re slightly ridiculous in a way that’s not unserious, but which rewards a more playful, laissez-faire practice. Things I love about painting with acrylics: messy chaos, unexpected palettes, texture… I find all of these resurfacing when painting chickens in watercolor. It feels whimsical and delightful, I like both the results and the way I joyfully respond to the work. I want to stay in this space for a while, so: chickens!

March 5, 2026

I find myself wrestling - somewhat literally - with watercolor, and - somewhat surprisingly for my usual amount of patience with difficult things - enjoying it. It’s a big change in medium for me. I’m used to acrylics, which are forgiving, bold, messy, and something that lets me paint and repaint and scrape back and tweak and change until I’m done.

Watercolor lets me do none of those things. It needs me to know what I’m doing. It needs planning, pre-sketching, thinking about light and working with the white of the paper. It’s hard to correct. It requires restraint, delicacy, and gentleness.

I am none of those things! And so we struggle together, watercolor and I, to see what we can make.

This piece is painted from memory and inspired by one of my favorite places close to Santa Cruz, CA.