Busy day, so only time for a tiny sketch. Literally tiny — it’s less than 2″ high, done with a .005 micron pen and painted with a size 0 brush. Inspired by the colours in a Saul Steinberg sketch of an ashtray made for him by his friend Alexander Calder. Thanks to Esté MacLeod for the prompt.
In other achievements, I replaced the ratty mesh on the screen door in our dining room, and now I feel like a DIY superhero.
I’m looking forward to reading this Wallace Stegner book, as I’ve previously really enjoyed two of his (Angle of Repose and All the Little Live Things).
Stegner (1909 – 1993) had a long and much-lauded literary career. This book, Crossing to Safety, was his last novel. Can’t wait to dive in.
After May Grey, June Gloom, and a few weeks of No-Sky July, it’s amazing how the colours sing when the sun comes out.
Suzanne and I had our first beach swim of the year, then we parked ourselves behind this colour-loving gent to sketch.
The tomatoes are starting to ripen, so it’s time to multiply the basil!
Teasels are biennial herbaceous plants native to Europe, Asia, and North Africa. They’ve been introduced to the Americas, southern Africa, Australia and New Zealand. They are considered invasive in the United States, but I don’t remember ever observing one until last week on a back road of California’s central coast.
The genus name (Dipsacus) is derived from dipsa, Greek for thirst, and refers to the cup-like formation made where sessile (stem-less) leaves merge at the main stem. Rainwater collects in these receptacles.
The common name teasel is from the verb “to tease”. The fuller’s teasel was once widely used in textile processing. The dried flower heads were attached to spindles, wheels, or cylinders, sometimes called teasel frames, to tease or raise the nap on fabrics, particularly wool. Eventually they were replaced with metal combs.
My first-ever sighting of bald eagles had me pretty thrilled.
Let’s root these suckers!
On our last day at Los Osos, the fog finally cleared and we were treated to a sunset over the Elfin Forest, with a view of Morro Rock in the distance.
The three tiny lines to the far right are smoke stacks on a defunct power plant, built in the 1950s and decommissioned in 2014, situated right on Morro Bay. They are scheduled to be demolished, but it turns out that many locals have quite an affection for them, and not everyone is happy to see the demise of this industrial landmark. The town is colloquially referred to as “Three Stacks and a Rock” and there is even a homegrown hand signal — the middle three fingers of the left hand held upright, and the right hand making a fist.
I guess if tourists can no longer visit Three Stacks and a Rock, they will just have to be satisfied with a Rock, which to my eyes is a far more attractive sight.
We stopped in Ventura on the way home and ate a lovely dinner here. Quick sketch of the friends at a neighbouring table before our food arrived.
hashiworks 