Yesterday, while I was out driving around doing my errands I took two different roads. One took me way out of my way but past some interesting barns and snow covered fields.
At the library, while looking for new reading material I made myself pick up two books that I normally wouldn't choose to read and checked them out. I'll let you know how that goes.
This morning I found this picture in my texture file and decided to do a pencil sketch of it. I rarely work in pencil so it was interesting to use just the pencil and work on dark/light values.
I remember at one point the thought popped into my mind that this was just like being a little kid again. When I was little other than my little box of crayons, not the deluxe box of 64, and my pencil, I would spend Sunday afternoons drawing in my blue lined, little black journal. I watched endless black and white, cowboy shows. One of my parents was always napping because they worked the night shift while the other one worked the day shift.
Despite the blue lines I filled every page with detailed geometric scribbles.
I'm sure I worked even harder on the page when there was sappy dialogue between a cowboy and some girl. I was only interested in watching when the horses were galloping, guns were being fired and they showed the inside of some body's cabin.