The Okavango

The Okavango Delta is a place of beauty. Tucked away in the heart of Botswana, it is a sanctuary for birds and wildlife. We traveled to the island, where we would set up camp, in mokoros; hollowed out tree trunks which are punted through the shallow waters of the delta, keeping a leery eye out for hippopotamus. If we were thirsty we would dip a cup over the side of the canoe, and drank deeply, having been told that the water was pure.

Cape buffalo looked up as we passed by, water dripping from their mouths and elephants cautiously watched us, sniffing the air with their trunks.  It was exciting as well as very idyllic.

After we had set up camp under a Sausage tree that would occasionally drop an enormous torpedo-like pod to the ground, the men in the group went down to the water to fill the jerrycans, while we, women, watched.

A fisherman stood thigh-deep in the shallows, while he fanned out his hand-made net and threw it into the darkening waters. All was well with the world. But wait, what is that I see? What do the weights of his net resemble? Batteries, large flashlight batteries! I waded out to take a closer look and saw that the batteries had holes drilled right through to attach them to the net. In my mind's eye I could see the cadmium oozing out into the pure waters of the Okavango, that I had drunk so deeply and without a care.

That night, as I made my last stop behind a bush, I watched closely to see if my pee didn't glow in the dark, but was distracted by another enormous sausage whizzing past my ear to drop to the ground with a thud and hastily made my way back to my tent by the light beaming from my eyes.

I am cleaning out memorabilia, and found some wonderful old postcards that my family had sent each other while they lived in Africa. I used a card by C. Barry to draw this wonderful wise woman. I drew with pen and nib and Indian Ink without setting up a sketch first. Wanted to see if I could sketch without an eraser.

Rice paper and powder.

Several years ago I found a little box at the drugstore, which quite amazingly was empty and yet for sale. It was a pretty box and I have a 'thing' for little boxes, so by the time I walked out the door, the pretty box was mine. It was an ideal container for the nibs for my ink pens, but in reality its purpose was just to be pretty.

I have always wanted to draw the picture on the box and now I have.

If I ever thought I had found a treasure, then I was wrong. I have since discovered that the box is an ordinary commercial item and still being sold. When opening the box it should have contained little sheets of rice paper with rice powder to blot a shiny nose. Still, I am perfectly happy with my box, empty or not, because every time I look at it, it feeds my imagination.

These are more the real colors. The scanner made some changes of it's own. 

Paper: Strathmore Bristol smooth 260gsm

Paint: Winsor & Newton Designers Gouache, Micron 01

Brush: No. 6 Loew-Cornell

Technique: Gouache, crosshatch shading

Level of enjoyment while making: high

EDM Challenge 185.

When we bought a house in France we didn’t realize that the purchase price included 15 cats. There seemed to be cats everywhere: snoozing in the shade, under one of the many rose bushes, sitting on the wall blinking in the sun or making a dash for it as we approached.

I had never thought about cats as anything else than pets and had no idea that half-wild or feral cats existed.

It also took a few days for us to understand that this was an enormously incestuous little clowder. Down the road lived a stringy tom who was the granddaddy of them all and who would make his rounds to his harem several times a day. Our own (neutered) cat only watched from a safe distance or came indoors with a disgusted air that said, “I want no part in this”. It was all a little too uncivilized for his taste, I believe.

After the second litter had arrived, I decided that it was time return all the cats and whenever there was an opportunity I would put on ‘the gloves’ hoping that I would be successful at catching cat and putting it in a box to take it three villages down to it’s owners. Every so many days I would make the journey with a box containing a snarling, scratching cat on the seat beside me and show up at their door.

It was a cold, wet and windy April night when I looked out of the window and saw a cat crawling out of the neighbor’s basement and making a wild dash to our side of the road.

When I later went to look in the laundry room that we used as a potting shed, there were three kittens in a corner on a sack, their eyes still closed. This was the litter that stayed, although their Mother Mimi was later delivered to her rightful owners, who managed a sour smile, because I don’t think they really wanted me to return their cats and were wondering when this would stop. Mimi was the last.

My brother adopted the two males and called them Mad Max and Dirty Harry, I kept the little gray female.

In the drawing Dirty Harry and my little gray kitten share a basket. She was with me for 19 years.

Challenge 185: Draw a cat. 
I decided to try the dreaded watercolors again, and ended up using them as I would gouache. Not quite the intention. The paper is 300 gsm, cold pressed Fabriano watercolor paper, which contains 25% cotton. For a brush I used a medium Niji waterbrush.

The watercolor paint is Pelican. For watercolor I prefer a box because tubes of paint can dry out seeing I do so few watercolors. Seeing that the paint isn't really very transparent I must have the box with opaque paint. All Dick Blick.

Listened to "Staying On" by Paul Scott, author of "The Jewel in The Crown".
In this sequel to The Raj Quartet, Colonel Tusker and Lucy Smalley stay on in the hills of Pankot after Indian independence deprives them of their colonial status. Finally fed up with accommodating her husband, Lucy claims a degree of independence herself. Eloquent and hilarious, she and Tusker act out class tensions among the British of the Raj and give voice to the loneliness, rage, and stubborn affection in their marriage.Staying On won the Booker Prize and was made into a motion picture starring Trevor Howard and Celia Johnson in 1979.

EDM Challenge 293

This is not recent work but I had recently scanned it. It is made on gesso layered with Indian Ink and scratched out so that you get a negative effect, which works very well for something made of glass.

Miss Potato Nose.

This past year, like Alice, I went down the rabbit hole. No Queen of Hearts in my story, but a Miss Potato Nose. She also yelled, "Off with their heads", at the top of her lungs, while she swung her machete around and changed the life of all of those about her.
I have read and reread the book by Martha Stout: The Sociopath Next Door. I had read it prior to having my head cut off and still could do nothing when it happened because we want to believe that those whom we like cannot be so heartless. 
Only now am I getting round to it, and I have acquired a nice new potato-peeler.

Paper Cut.

I have a problem - well perhaps more than one, but I have such a broad interest in everything around me that I always find myself doing something new. It's probably what I need, or I would specialize. 
Since I bought some printed paper this whimsical cut-out just wouldn't go away till I made her.

Foreign movies.

You say tomato, I say tomahto. When I say ball, you hear bowl. Seriously. 

A friend was going to bring my dog to the office, and I asked her to also bring the bowl. She called to say that there was no bowl in the kitchen. Puzzled, I told there was one by the fridge and heard her say, "Oh, you want her ball". I have told this story to others and Americans hear bowl for ball and I, when they say it, hear ball for bowl and bowl for ball. As if life is not confusing enough.

I was having dinner with a very likable man and we were making the usual small talk, which I am not good at even at the best of times. I asked him what kind of movies he liked and distinctly heard him say, "porn movies". I know my eyes must have glazed over when I looked up from my plate. He held my gaze and said again, "forn movies", (which I know are, to some people, almost the same as porn movies). "Ah", I said somewhat relieved, "forrin movies". 

Oh well, you say tomato, I say, tomahto. What does it matter? No reason to call the whole thing off.

I used pen and ink (Hydrus, Phthalo Green and Venetian Brown) for the peacock feather and washed in a watercolor for the yellow.
Lately some readers have asked if the photos and drawings are my own. Everything used in my blog is my own and all photos, writing, drawings and made objects etc are done by me with the exception of a few and I always mention if they are by someone else in the text.

Seydou Keita, Mali photographer,

One great discovery I made while researching Mali was the photography of Seydou Keita. A personal discovery that is, because this pioneer photographer had already been discovered. I used one of his photo's for the above illustration, and sketched it on copy paper, of all things. The young woman's stance, with her foot on the chair, her wide skirts and especially her arms and hands fascinated me.

Keeping it tidy.

Frankly, the drawing has nothing to do with what's on my mind. I just drew this big, old crab for my 6 year old niece to send to her in reply to the pretty card she sent me showing off her new talent in writing in cursive. 

Drawing, writing and reading are my methods to not have to think about the sorry state of affairs in which we find ourselves. During the week, it is part of my job; in the weekend I force myself to find ways to distract my mind for else one might lose it and that would be very untidy.


There has been a little bubble of an idea floating peacefully along in the back of my mind for many years. Never really acted upon. Never used for any purpose. Sometimes surfacing, often not.
Last weekend, when not even drawing could still my restlessness, I suddenly sat down and wrote the outline of a story and since then I have been collecting facts to which I can attach my fantasy and a new diversion was created.


Main character: Sophia Mumms, adventurous, young traveler of limited means in a post-WWII world, embarks on a journey that takes her to Mali and beyond.


Now I had to discover how she would travel (cargo ship), what she would eat; where she would sleep; who she would meet and most importantly what would she find herself in the middle of (murder and theft)? A story needs excitement, an intricate plot, subplots and some romance. So I have found myself looking for answers to many the questions I have. Although I have traveled extensively in Africa, my interest has always been East Africa, and now I am discovering the West through names like Dakar, Djenne, and Timbuktu; people like the Dogons, Fulani and Tuaregs, and a 2,500 mile river, plied by river boats and pirogues, forming the back-bone of the first part of the story. 

In my travels on the web, I stumbled on Sophia herself. I found this marvelous blog by Sophia, Djenne Djenno. This is not my Sophia, but a modern day artist, and life adventurer who runs a hotel in Djenne, Mali. There are such amazing people to be discovered, that one hardly need write fiction. Reading her enjoyable and interesting blog I am strongly reminded of Isak Dinesen and her time in Africa.
listening to: Miriam Makeba - Africa, Nawang Kheechog - Rhythms of Peace, Joe Cocker - Ultimate Collection.

Sea Anemone.

I have to be careful not to accidently take a sip of the glass of orange water that stands in front of me and which I have used to clean my brush.

Today we had quite a little quake. It lasted a long time and everything that could rattle, rattled. I had read that animals sense an earthquake in advance but Athena clearly does not have that knack. She slept until we started to feel the house shaking and was as surprised as I was. She then sidled up to me, seeking protection, and I had to shoo her out the door because even though our earthquakes are never severe, I thought it might be better to be outside. The  5.8 magnitude earthquake's epicenter was 22 miles southeast of Calexico, in the Baja.

Hydrus.

Pen drawing using Dr. Ph. Martin's Hydrus watercolor.

Guinea Fowl.

Nothing better than brewing a pot of tea, putting on some music and just coloring in a drawing. I drew the bird a while back and had been wanting to give it some color. I am working on a rather large project that requires  quite some drying time before I can move on and what better to do in the meantime than get a brush and some acrylics, the pot of tea and coloring away.

Pen and Ink Still Life.

I have a tendency towards broad strokes and avoiding detailed work but you can't do that with pen and ink because it just becomes messy. So this is a study in self-discipline too really.

Pen and Indian ink.

In spite of having a boatload of new inks and paints what did I use? Indian ink and a nib pen.

Swazi son gouache.

I

I think one of the aspects, of doing this kind of work, that I like is that you can go into flow, forget about everything and just let your mind wander all over the spectrum. But now I have a dilemma, my mind wandered to a totally unimportant place: do I prefer early morning to late at night? Normally I wouldn't think twice about this, but there you are. When I say 'late at night' it really just means between 9 and 11 p.m. and the last few nights have been so beautiful with a silvery full moon casting a light that you can read a book by. Well almost. 

Mr Blick sent me a second box last week. The box was sizable, so imagine the look on my face when I plucked out a well-wrapped pencil and then peered into an empty box. In my mind, I tut-tutted Mr Blick for his wastefulness. 

Yesterday another box from Mr Blick was waiting for me at my doorstep. I was relieved to see this box filled to the brim with brushes, Bombay Inks and all the other absolute necessities I had ordered. I started out with a pencil stub and some printer paper and now I have......well, a lot of stuff. So much for wanting to simplify life and get rid of things I don't need. I do need brushes , paints and all the rest, but did I need so much? 

I am going to play now. Well, I will as soon as I can fight my way through plastic, shrink-wrap and more tough plastic.

Swazi daughter gouache.

At first I thought I would have to paint the illustrations directly into the album, and that these that I have made were trials but then I read more about digital transfers and discovered that there are many ways you can do this. The end-result will be different, but it will avoid having to paint directly in the album allowing for corrections of mistakes (I can be a little sloppy at times). It can have quite a nice effect and avoid the album from becoming too thick.
I am using Fabriano, coldpress 300 gsm watercolor paper, which is quite heavy. I also find this paper a little too textured for my kind of work. I used FW Acrylic Artists Ink (Flame Orange) for the shawl and I liked working with it. Nice vibrant color. I immediately ordered Dr Ph. Martins Bombay Ink in several colors for a next project. Just the name, "Bombay Ink", would want me to buy it.
Hearing names like Bombay, Zanzibar, Damascus, Srinagar, Gaborone and so on, make me want to embark on a walkabout.

Swazi mother in gouache.

This sudden desire to paint and draw did not just fall out of the sky. It all has to do with Fleur or as we sometimes call her Fleuro. The wonder of having a little girl like her in the family just dazzles me. I decided I would make her a photo-album to record her first years but just an album with photos did not seem enough. I am not into making scrapbooks which is all the rage right now. Are you joking? I can't just go out an buy ready made decorations to stick into a book. I would make my own paints, grinding pigments and all given half the chance. I do things from scratch which reminds me of my father's time painting with his oil paints that he made with egg-whites. I suppose that's where it comes from. Well, thinking that I wanted the book to be original, I came up with illustrating Fleur's book with drawings and paper-cuts, in addition to writing her letters and making pretty envelopes that can be added to the pages. I also want her to know her family so I am diligently going through boxes of memories that in some cases are not mine but the memories of generations before me.

Swazi father in gouache.

Yesterday I decided it would be a painting day and what a painting day it was. Dark clouds rolled over in the afternoon and soon rain clattered against the windows and the ensuing crisp coolness made it an ideal painting day. With some lamps on and Athena at my feet, I painted away. It wasn't easy. I hadn't done it for a long time but the brushes and new tubes of paint were so enticing I couldn't wait. Forget about the laundry and ironing. It was painting day.

I painted the family in sequence from father to youngest son and that is how I will post them. Pencil sketch painted with gouache (opaque watercolor, the medium I have used most since I can remember). Tools: homemade stamps of pins in cork and also a tiny stamp made with Staedtler Mastercarve which they say is "como mantequilla" and so it is. Very small stamps are better made from erasers because Mastercarve crumbles. I do think it will be great for larger stamps. I also used a 0.5 Micronpen for the outlines, giving the drawings a more cartoonlike quality.