Painting in the Garden.

I had the whole day to myself today, so I decided to try out one of the new little Mont Marte sketchbooks that a friend and I had thought was a really good buy.  A whole book for less than the cost of one sheet of watercolour paper.  Bargain!  I bought seven.  I couldn't help it...that classy little landscape format was just too irresistible.

I sat down in a lovely shady part of the garden, with my little picnic morning tea. 

Hmmmmm....a whole day....brand new sketchbookbook....bliss.

As soon as I cracked it open, the first signature fell out.  Unbelievable.  So back inside I went and stuck it all back together with masking tape.  Then just for good measure (and to cheer myself up) I reinforced it with a bit of washi. Now I had a funky little landscape sketchbook.

Back to the garden.

The ants have attacked my banana.  

Change location, get another banana.

Ok.  Here we go.  Painting in the garden.  Goody gum drops.  What luxury.  

Sketching is not my fave.  I usually hurry through that bit so that I can get to the watercolour bit.  But the paper didn't take water very well at all.  It was like working on blotting paper.  The faster I worked, the faster the paper sucked.  The more water I slopped around, the more my little book behaved like a buffalo at a keg party.  Not that I've ever been to a keg party.

I gave up about half way through.

Episode two to be advised.

A journal for Urban Sketching

I have such a lot of trouble starting a new journal and even a new page sometimes.

I just sit there and look at it without actually putting pen to paper because I don't want to mess it up.

It's called 'blank page syndrome'.  Truly.  There's even a name for it!

So to get over this I decided to make a really crappy journal.  A journal that I don't even like.  One that I'll be glad to see the back of.  That way I'll be sure to use the damn thing and not fuss over it.

Introducing the 'Boring as Batshit Brown Journal'........

Made from used envelopes, remnant papers from other projects, wrappings from parcels received in the mail, shop soiled and damaged papers that the girls from Jackson's have thrown my way and a dreadful old brown Reader's Digest cover that I don't even like.

This deceivingly pretty orange paper has bats on the reverse.

Bats?  What was I thinking?

(Ha Ha...I've just realised...'Boring as Batshit Journal!  Get it?)

I'm going to leave this journal in the car so it's always at the ready for Urban Sketching.

Listen to me..."Urban Sketching"...like I know what I'm talking about! 

Horrocks Beach

Horrocks holds such beautiful and fun memories for our family.  It was the furthest place that we felt our old Holden could travel to all those years ago when our girls were little.  Now that we have a more modern car...albeit an almost 20 year old peeling Prado...we generally travel a little bit further afield. But for the recent Australia Day long weekend we thought we'd just revisit familiar territory.

So happy we did.

Waiting patiently for the fishermen to bring in their crayfish catch for the day.

This is the very same old wooden jetty where two sweet and innocent little girls (who shall remain nameless) came up with a plan.  Unbeknown to their parents, they were catching blowfish with their brand spanking new fishing lines, and 'serving' them back into the water with their tennis racquets!  They thought the whole thing was just screamingly funny (obviously they take after their father). 

Nothing at all has changed.  It was like taking a step back in time.  Even the old squeaky wooden door on the general store is the same!  Blows my mind.

Such serenity in an otherwise hectic world.

Thank you Horrocks.