Tag: sketchbook

The Prison of Socrates

On our last day in Athens, we have one prominent place left to visit, the Hill of the Muses. As we make our way around the Acropolis through zig-zagging streets, we pause for a moment to watch an organ grinder. An old man wearing a bowler hat pulls the crank while lighting up a cigarette, and an unfamiliar song begins to resonate outward. The organ itself is really the attraction, with fringe, jewelry, flowers and old black-and-white movie-star photos decorating its sides. A young boy runs around with hat in hand collecting money, replacing the traditional monkey.

With our day quickly passing, we continue our walk up the Hill of the Muses overlooking the city. Our first stop is the Prison of Socrates, where the philosopher was supposed to have been jailed before they forced him to drink deadly hemlock. He had been convicted of corrupting the youth of Athens with his philosophical teachings. This is also the site where, during the Second World War, all the Acropolis’ artifacts were hidden from the Nazis. I’m not that interested in drawing the site but my dad is insistent, so I pull out my gear and give it a shot. I’m not sure what I should include in the drawing. I know its historical significance, but the hill seems uninteresting and flat. I step back a bit to let the tree trunk cross the image and give the drawing depth. Now it starts taking on new life, and I’m glad my dad recommended drawing here.

The Hotel Adams, Athens

Our second floor room is old but clean, and has a partial view of the Acropolis, which is conveniently located a few blocks away. Setting down my backpack, I pull back the curtains revealing a shallow balcony complete with bistro table and two chairs. Fortunately, the rain that welcomed us to Athens has stopped, but its presence can still be seen as water drips from the balcony above. I slide open the door and step outside just as a motorcycle whizzes along the narrow street below, leaving behind a faint smell of exhaust. From this view, the Acropolis towers above the city, a fortress embedded in a mountain of rock.

Temple of Hephaestus in the Agora, Athens

Looking around for a new subject to paint, I walk towards the Temple of Hephaestus, stepping over puddles from last night’s rain as I go. I take a deep breath. The morning air is rich with moisture and the scent of flowers. After finding a good view of the temple, I pull out my chair and unfold it. The temple, from this perspective, sits on top of a hill overlooking the Agora with green gardens surrounding it.

Church of the Holy Apostles in the Agora, Athens

(Excerpt from my book, The Artist on the Road: Impressions of Greece)

At the far end of the Agora, I find an engaging view of a Byzantine church with the ever-present Acropolis hovering in the distance. This will be a great place to start the day. I pull out my sketchbook, unfold my chair, and begin drawing. Thinking back to what I learned on Mykonos yesterday, I start with the most important object, the church dome, and work outward, eyeballing the proportions as I go. By drawing the overall size and perspective of the church first, I won’t have to worry about running off the page when my mind is preoccupied drawing the details.

The Agora

(Excerpt from my book, The Artist on the Road: Impressions of Greece)

We begin our day in the Agora, an ancient marketplace just below the Acropolis. It looks like an over-grown garden with trees, bushes, and flowers but with the added bonus of architectural ruins scattered about. Although few people are present, it’s easy to imagine the crowds shopping thousands of years ago. I walk along Panathenaic Way as it cuts across the Agora. In ancient times, Greeks used this pathway not only for the market but also for the Panathenaic festival (the largest and most important festival in Athens) that was held each year in honor of Athena, the patron Goddess of Athens. The procession began at dawn, just north of here at the Dipylon Gate in the Potter’s Quarter. It then proceeded through the Agora and wound up the Acropolis to the Erechtheum where a peplos (a full length garment warn by women) was placed on the statue of Athena. Each year young women wove a new peplos specifically for the event.

Sketch of Plaka, Athens

Finally, after our long boat ride from Mykonos, we arrive at the docks of Piraeus. We collect our bags and wait below deck with a crowd of people to exit the ferry. A grinding vibration from the engine coupled with the sound of rushing water echoes against the steel hull as we inch towards the dock. When the gangway finally lowers, a rush of fresh, humid air blows against my face. We step out into the port town of Piraeus and hop on the Metro for a short ride to our hotel in Athens. After settling into our room, we head back out for a double scoop of gelato and a walk around the familiar city streets, enjoying the buzz of this world-class city.

Picking and Painting Wild Blackberries

With a small basket and sketchbook in hand, I walk down the old fire road near my house to a hidden blackberry bush that’s bursting with ripe fruit. It feels good to get out of doors and breath in the fresh air. Even with the strangely cooler weather we’ve been experiencing this summer, (about 10 degrees cooler than normal) blackberries are in abundance and tastier than ever. As I walk closer to the bush, a shapeless mass of green, I smell a sweet aroma hovering in the air.

Today I plan to paint the blackberry bush before filling up my basket. Holding my art supplies in hand, I walk around looking for a good place to draw. Luckily, I find a spot under the shade of a tree. I admire the berries in various stages of ripeness with colors ranging from inky black to a brilliant red glowing in the afternoon sun. As I pull out my paints, a couple of curious bees stop by to see what I am up to but they soon buzz off to more important matters.

While letting the watercolor dry, I reach for my basket and pick the ripe fruit, berry by berry, carefully avoiding sharp thorns. Inevitably though the bush will poke me, reminding me of the pain that often accompanies life’s pleasures and keeps the easily intimidated away. I eat some berries right off the bush, enjoying each one’s distinctive taste. Some are soft and sweet, and some are firm and almost sour. But what I love most is the inviting fragrance that smells like a delicious perfume.

Mykonos, a Town on the Edge of the Sea

At the edge of town, I find a row of windmills and begin to draw, but soon stop. The arms of the windmill are not drawn well, and overall, it looks off. Since I drew a good windmill the day before yesterday, I turn my attention to another subject, the nearby bay. I start the drawing on the left side of the paper and detail each building as I move across the page. I’m running out of room, so I skip a few buildings to fit the curve of the bay at the bottom right. This helps the overall composition. I’m also finding that I don’t have to draw the horizon line anymore, as the islands themselves hint at its whereabouts.

I head back to the hotel to collect my bags, pick up my dad, and we set off for the docks. After one of the fastest cab rides I’ve ever experienced, I have a little extra time to draw a cargo ship before our ferry arrives.