Left: Pet Store birds, sketched on Nideggen paper (6 x 9 inch page approx.) Faber-Castell Pitt Artist's Calligraphy pen. Click on the image to view an enlargement.
When I was young I had a Budgie. (I can still rattle off a whole lot of budgie facts, and probably would if we were talking right now.) I have always loved birds. So when things aren't going right—whether it's the entire day, a painting, or simply a vague sense of uneasiness—I go to the pet store and sketch.
Nobody has ever told me to move along, but if they were to do that I would. I don't want to disrupt their business. I only use pen and don't splash water around. I move out of the way when customers who are seeking their next pet want to get close. All that seems like common sense. So maybe that's why I'm tolerated.
I also take photos when I'm done. Reference shots to fill in the color details if I want to make a painting later—or if I want to sketch later when the store is closed.
Sometimes I am asked to refrain from taking photos. I can understand that. They might wonder if I'm collecting information on poor living conditions and such.
Maybe I'm not asked to leave because the ninja cloak of invisibility still actually works and isn't out of commission as I first thought after the conk on the head.
Doesn't matter. Even if I were asked to leave immediately, after only the briefest of glimpses of the birds I'd be restored. Birds do that for me.
Walking in urban areas one can usually find a pigeon. They do the same thing for me. They also often have a jester quality about them (not all pigeons, just some pigeon jokesters).
What brightens your mood? What lifts you up? Find it. Observe it closely. Draw it often. It makes the serious stuff of life easier to deal with.
Take a step outside yourself. Sketching can do that for you.
Hint: If you have a dog or cat, look down at your feet. Your model is already waiting for you.
