Last Friday, I stepped way, WAY outside my comfort zone and went to an all-day, outside "sketching" workshop . . .
in an unfamiliar location
with not one person I knew
I'm still not sure what possessed me to sign up and go, exactly. (Although I've always wanted to be able to sit and sketch a landscape.)
(And . . . because journey.)
So I went.
I got a little bit lost on my way there. I almost just bailed and turned back for home.
(But I didn't.)
The location turned out to be a fabulous private garden property (way out in the country on a totally unmarked road, which led to the getting lost part) that made me gasp at every turn.
I delighted in exploring the grounds with my gardener's eye.
And I was so very glad I had my camera with me (because sketching alone, for me, would never have done the place justice).
It really was a perfect day -- comfortable weather, not too much sun, bird song in the air, and lovely vignettes and vistas . . .
Most of the other workshoppers just plopped down in front of some incredibly picturesque view, got out their easels and their watercolors, and sketched/painted the day away.
I was a bit more restless (and a lot less accomplished). I moved around from place to place . . . and mostly sketched various leaves.
(Because . . . just beginning.)
The very-patient-and-incredibly-supportive instructor kept phrasing all of her feedback to me with the following statement, "for those returning to the visual arts after a very long pause." (Cracked me up every time!)
It was a lovely day, all the way around. I'm glad I didn't head home when I got a little lost, because the overall experience was worth a little personal "thrashing about." (Journeys are just like that.)