Fourth time’s the charm: on this India trip I actually took the time to do some sketching. It felt good, breaking out ink, graphite and watercolors. Only a few quick studies in the pages of my travel journal, but sometimes that feels better than trying to force Art (with a capital A).
A rainy morning study of 47 Jobner Bagh, my favorite hotel in the world (although admittedly I’m not big on hotels). Ballpoint + watercolor
A painting of a painting, because the mural (and framed photos) at 28 Kothi were too lovely not to capture.
The view from our Delhi hotel balcony was city but scenic, and the evening haze made for the most surreal sunsets. Red sun, green leaves, blue rooftops; pigeons, kites, parrots and crows circling or still. That is how I’ll always think of this city.
The never-ending traffic and deafening horns, understated parties on rooftops, “tea or coffee please?,” paneer steaks, cows ambling along highway mediums, and the endless shopping might be in the back of my mind, but first I’ll remember unwinding and processing alone. Craning my neck to see the eagle perched on a radio tower, smoking a spliff on the terrace as the dusk fades to dark, watching bats swoop from treetop to treetop and crawl around on the branches around me. The dogs begin to bark, because the night is their time. But it’s my time too.
