Tag Archives: urban sketching

Not a rookie anymore

Last year, around this time I took a leap of faith, went to Ikea, got myself cheap black frames into which I put my paintings and sent them out to be showcased at an art exhibition. Even before sending them out, I had marked places on the walls of my apartment where I planned to mount them if they made their way back home. A part of me agonised over our parting and the other part wanted to know if someone out there would actually pay money for something I had created.

The Entrance to the ‘We Draw Singapore Together’ exhibition

Besides the exhilaration of selling paintings for the first time in my life, last year’s experience helped me gain insights into how paintings should be priced and more importantly presented. So, this time round, I got my artworks professionally framed and sent them out to the world with slightly less drama proving that I’m not a rookie anymore. The hard part wasn’t letting go, but to choose three out of the five I had sketched and painted for the occasion. These were the contenders :

A random house at Everton Road drawn with a dip pen with flex nib, Brown Calligraphy ink and a lot of patience

Contender 1 is this random terrace house on Everton Road that stood out for me because it was the only one in the row with such an incredible number of decorative plants on its porch emerging from all kinds of pots. I was also drawn to the building’s teal coloured window frames and when I saw the owner eventually drive off in a teal coloured Volkswagen Beetle wearing a teal coloured dress with matching shoes, I was glad my palette didn’t have enough teal to deal with this kind of fetish.

Buddhist Library at Geylang Serai and more

A saffron clad monk with an American accent emerged from the Buddhist Library on Lorong 27A to look at our sketches and chat with us

Contender 2 was drawn with a fine nib pen which I realised can be a boon and a bane. Ever since I started using the Pilot Kaküno, I get caught up in details and take hours to finish the linework, which is what happened here in the above painting. Although the process is therapeutic and the painting gets beautifully embellished, sometimes slow and careful drawing, I feel steals some of the energy and spontaneity of the piece. I sketched this from right to left and as you can see I gradually broke free and finished the sketch with broader, indicative strokes to strike a balance. Not spelling out everything and leaving my sketches somewhat unfinished is important to me because that way the viewer gets to participate in the process by mentally joining the dots.

Colourful shophouses on Spottiswoode Road

Can you believe that this red house on Spottiswoode Road has a frontage of only 4.2 meters, while it is 36 meters deep and has 7 rooms?

Contender 3‘s cute little red shophouse at number 66 is the reason I plonked my stool opposite it and even though a series of cars and trucks took turns to block my view and tons of tourists stopped by, breathed over my neck while pointing fingers at my sketchbook, I managed to finish it. The owner of the red house, Mr. Seah, came over to chat and answered my barrage of questions without breaking a sweat.

He said my subject is a 1886 built house, that was owned by a Chinese family and handed down to family members over the years till in 1924 a nun from Malacca or perhaps Penang bought it for 4800 dollars. After she passed away in 1995, the house went to the trustees and finally Mr. Seah, a property agent and restoration contractor bought it. I say who needs to book a flight ticket when venturing out with a sketchbook lets you rediscover places like these locally!

House No.56 on Spottiswoode Park Road

Contender 4 is another beauty on Spottiswoode Park Road but a beauty with a sinister history. Apparently as per a lot of sources, a murder took place inside those walls. If it was up to Agatha Christie, I’m sure ‘Murder at House no. 56’ would be available in paperback and in the televised version we’d see monsieur Poirot pacing outside the wrought iron gates, tilting his egg shaped head to the side, twitching his waxed moustache and saying to Hastings, ‘Mon ami, let us eliminate the suspects one by one’.

L’Entrecote – a steak and fries bistro at 36 Duxton Hill

Wonky lines and all, I like how my contender 5 turned out. Duxton Hill is pretty as a picture, so settling on one subject is difficult until I found this lady in red and sketched her pronto. Two grey haired gentlemen hurried out of an office probably for a meeting and stopped briefly to check what I was doing on the floor of their corridor and on their way back asked if I take commissions. Then came a realtor cum historian who shoved his business card into my ink stained hands and asked to get in touch for future prospects. Nothing came out of both, but I still love how regular people going about their business get excited by art and are forced to stop by, linger and sometimes have heartfelt conversations with this absolute stranger!

So, if you’re wondering which three I chose for the exhibition, well, I took an opinion poll – asked friends, relatives, acquaintances for their choices and then of course went with the ones I always had in mind. Isn’t that what everybody does?

My three musketeers!

Anyway, by now if you’re feeling the unrelenting desire to drop everything and rush to the exhibition to check out my artwork, well then, who am I to stop you. Here’s the invite –

This is the invitation card with details of the venue and opening hours in case someone feels like buying local art

Go feast your eyes!

Club Street in the afternoon

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..is lifeless. But that’s not a turn-off. At least not for everybody.

At this ungodly hour, you can have Club Street’s dainty rows of higgledy-piggledy shophouses all to yourself. Empty five foot ways, deserted barstools and straight uninterrupted views all around make for perfect sketching conditions except for the ginormous supply trucks that come by to stock up the watering holes and restaurants so they can wine and dine every last one of their evening revellers. Now whether these hulks will park in front of the very subject you selected after prolonged scouting will depend on the alignment of your stars.

View from Ninety Four ( a bar) at Club Street

Mine were in perfect constellation. None of the trucks blocked my line of vision. From the barstool of ‘Ninety Four’ I enjoyed unhindered views of Ann Siang Hill. Plus the man in front, resting on the stool, kept fairly still and stayed long enough for me to include him in the scene. Also none of the cars drove off mid-sketch, which is rare. Now if only the bar would open and I could get a drink..wait..it did!

Craig Road beauties

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A sure shot way to fire up the creative engine is to just throw myself at Chinatown. It works every time, irrespective of how deep a rut I’m in. This neighbourhood with its rows of beautifully conserved shophouses in varied architectural styles is an incessant source of delight and creative inspiration. When you watch the encroaching high rises craning their neck from above, you realise that this wonderful anachronism is the result of deliberate choices made in its favour. Sure the rumble of tourists’ feet wandering these streets sound like ka-ching to the exchequer, but for people like me – this is where we come to chase our muse.

So when a sketchwalk was arranged at the intersection of Craig and Neil Road, one Sunday morning, I left my hearth and home to be in the company of these beauties :

InITALY Bar Ristorante on 38 Craig Road

I don’t know how the food fares at this eatery, but this building is an eye candy. I was only wondering, what if a Chinese fortuneteller had told Dr. Montgomerie who owned the 13 hectare nutmeg plantation around Craig Road in the 19th century, that one day, Spaghettini with caviar and chives will be rolled out from an exquisitely designed shop house standing at his property? Would he believe the soothsayer? The kind surgeon probably would’ve accused him of hyperbole.

Antique shop with cheeky signage

Walking further down Craig Road, Tong Mern Sern Antiques Arts and Crafts Shop with its cheeky signage enticed me enough to make a stop. My friends had exactly ten minutes to spare till lunch, so I had to make my fingers work crazy fast on the sketchbook, leaving me no time to cross the little road, go inside the shop and ask the owner about their tag line, so it doesn’t haunt me till death. I still don’t sleep okay.

This was sketched at the intersection of Neil and Craig Road

With a belly full of nimble dumplings, I came back for one last sketch. But before I leave, you must know that with Dr. Montgomerie’s passing, his nutmeg plantation was auctioned off and eventually fragmented into building lots that were leased off to wealthy Chinese developers. Craig Road and nearby Duxton Road and Duxton Hill were constructed, which in the following years became the living quarters of the poor and depraved. This posh locale with ridiculously high rent and property prices that we see today emerged with constant development and urbanisation over the last fifty years.

So, instead of rubbing shoulders with opium addicts and gamblers, I have a Korean tourist bending over my sketch and excitedly poking at the second building from left. Yes my good man, it is Hongdae Korean BBQ, now calm down, will you?

Allure of the Back Alley

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I don’t know about other places but Singapore has one of the most alluring back alleys.

In my five years of life here, I’ve come across some beauties in Tiong Bahru, Geylang, Jalan Besar, Kampong Glam, Joo Chiat and Bras Basah. There must be countless more in many other neighbourhoods waiting to be noticed, admired, talked of, written about by some passersby who’s using it as a short cut to the next parallel road or to the car park this very moment. I hope he’d slow down and look around.

I know, I’ve always wanted to find a proper excuse to linger in these intimate spaces that have way too much character. Without startling the wayward neighbourhood cat or the dumpster diver, the only way to do this was to sit down and draw this beautiful mess.

This is the back lane of Seah Street. To combat overcrowding, back lanes were retrofitted to already existing shophouses in the early 20th century, to provide access for fire fighting, drainage and ‘scavenging’ – which in this case refers to allowing night soil carriers to collect human waste from each house. Thankfully those days are behind us!

And so I did. As you can see, there’s a lot going on, each element adding to the overall characteristic of this grubby stretch – a large green dumpster, a chipped wooden door, a spiral staircase, air conditioners, ducts, vents, cables, wires, pipes, switchboards, broken wooden planks, windows, wired fence, tinned roof, tiled roof, a bamboo pole sticking out with wet laundry, cracks, damp stains, spots, litter, cobwebs, weeds and what not. Don’t miss the bright red drum cylinder on the bottom right, used for burning offerings during the hungry ghost festival.

And this is only a small section of the alley that I captured in the 15 minutes I had. There’s so much life in here!

A beautifully grubby back alley in Geylang Serai.

And not all of it is still. While I was here, I met the back alley denizens. They were mostly in uniforms – chefs, cleaners, waiters, drivers, some sitting on their haunches, smoking, others unloading a truck of supplies or sweeping the litter or rushing out of the hot restaurant kitchens to get fresh air. It would’ve been business as usual except I was turning out to be a rather amusing distraction with my yellow stool, sketchbook and all.

At first they ignored me, only stealing furtive glances, but when they saw me staring forlornly at the squalor for a prolonged period, they warmed up. Each of them came over to chat, but mostly to criticise my work. It seemed like the obvious thing to do. And they were brazenly forthright. Amid snorts, grunts and sterile stares, I may have snagged some approving nods.

Destination or the journey?

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Even though I sketch and paint quite often, it’s hard to see progress in every piece I produce. If progress was climbing a flight of stairs, I probably have my grandma’s arthritic knees. It does feel at times that I’m floundering about at the same place creatively. The hard part is to keep going and not relinquish to these soul sucking thoughts. The reward however is that they flee out the window the moment I make something I really like! The belief is reinstated.

But only temporarily. It leaves you too like receding daylight. Before you know, you’re pulling yourself up those metaphorical stairs again.

This below is not an ‘aha!’ painting, but I know I’m going to keep pounding, hammering, moulding, shaping whatever it is I’m creating on paper till I get there. It may take 10 paintings, maybe 20, maybe more to make something that gets the little hairs on my arms to stand up even once.

Seah Street in Singapore

But with both eyes on the destination, what becomes of my journey? An insipid, uninspiring wait for something to happen? The reason one is compelled to make art day after day is because creating something out of nothing is thrilling, inspiring, extremely fulfilling and a lot of fun. It is our impression of what we see and our expression of what we feel. Shouldn’t that be enough? Why guild the lily with expectations of ‘making progress each day’ or ‘reaching transcendence once in a while’ with your art? If anything, these should be byproduct of the journey.

This is what I’m telling myself today.

What’s been cookin’ ?

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Actually a lot. The innocent Antipodean summer spell I was under at the beginning of the year got quickly replaced with Hong Kong’s mendacious haze and leaking skies in March. I was there for a week and had plenty of time to wander, sketch, chat with strangers, and watch Sex and the City on a loop late into the night because Carrie Bradshaw’s social life outshone every drivel on the hotel’s cable TV. But more about Hong Kong in a different post.

Let me fast forward to Singapore, where I along with other local artists were tasked with the submission of sketches to two different books that are both going to be published before this country turns 50 in August this year. Hurray! Urban Sketchers Singapore: Volume 2, will carry our memories of places in Singapore that are special to us and the other book Let’s Draw Singapore! is about the neighbourhoods we live in and the sketches of our favourite spots in them.

Surely I didn’t go scouting for subjects to sketch on Purvis Street again? Yes I did! I am that predictable. Killiney Kopitiam along with another sketch made the cut for the first book. I have scores of good memories at this kopitiam and also wrote an anecdote to go along with the sketch, which I think is with the editor. However, here’s the sketch :

‘Killiney Kopitiam on Purvis Street’ is going to be published in Urban Sketchers Singapore: Volume 2

For the neighbourhoods book, I didn’t have to think much. Belly rumbles shot the idea straight to the brain one day. Indian Palace, a hole in the wall eatery in Newton Food Centre is on my speed dial. They are at a 10 mins (Okay, 6 minutes when I’m really hungry) walk from my home and I’ve pigged out on their aloo paratha and chicken tikka countless times. While sketching their stall, the gentle owner, his wife and daughter in matching orange T-shirts with the name of their shop printed at the back, came up to check what I was up to.

The curtain of business formality vanished as soon as they met a fellow Bengali from Kolkata. What are the chances! Within minutes, I was listening to their life story of struggle, survival and success in Singapore, while sipping lime juice and vigorously scratching lines on my sketchbook.

A favourite Indian joint near my house. I'm addicted to their better slathered aloo parathas baked in a traditional tandoor. This goes into the Let's Draw, Singapore! book.

A favourite Indian joint near my house. I’m addicted to their butter slathered aloo parathas baked in a traditional tandoor. This goes into the Let’s Draw, Singapore! book.

Indian Palace’s portly matron took it upon herself to dispense neighbourly advice to me, that ranged from shifting to a low rental apartment to becoming a Permanent Resident. “Otherwise what’s the point in moving to a foreign country?” she said. Apparently I wasn’t scrimping and saving enough to justify my life out of India.

In exchange for her tips, she implored me to find a husband for her daughter. “I don’t care if he’s poor or less educated, I want a guy who’d be willing to immigrate from India and settle here with my daughter”, she demanded as if I could furnish him from my rucksack as soon as she filled out the withdrawal slip. “We’d be giving him a better life! Think of that.” Apparently her elder daughter is happily married to ‘such’ a guy. Discomfited by the sudden matchmaking role thrust upon me, I squirmed and stuttered, while she dunked her biscuit in the tea. “Doesn’t your husband have unmarried friends back home?”

As I was about to leave, I asked her why insist on importing when you could go local. Didn’t she care about carbon footprint at all? “You know…the ones here”. I didn’t know, really. “Some of them gamble and drink and..(long pause)..have girlfriends”, she’d lowered her voice to a whisper. It was an eventful afternoon.

Trip to the Antipodes series : Sydney

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30th December 2014 : Melbourne to Sydney – George’s apartment in Surrey Hills that we found through an intense search on Airbnb, was close to the CBD. Trust me, that is all one needs – an affordable (100 – 150$ over budget is called affordable during this time of the year) place to crash after New Year fireworks. A place that doesn’t wring your pockets dry and is not in the back of beyond taking 5 hours to reach*.

Dumping our luggage in the room, we venture out for sightseeing. Serendipity strikes. Spotting a woman wearing a neon green ‘I’m Free’ lettered T-shirt ( That was Justine, co-founder of I’m free walking tours) circled by about thirty people, right out side QVB, near the talking dog statue, we join her. And what follows is a peek into the city’s history and a walk past Sydney’s major sights described in a fun, extremely informative narrative.

30th December / Sydney: I decided to sketch the opera house today because we didn't know where we would be watching the fireworks from the next day and if I would even get this view or not.

30th December 2014/ Sydney: I decided to sketch the opera house today because we didn’t know where we would be watching the fireworks from the next day and if I would even get this view or not. After the free walking tour of “The Rocks”, we bought a picnic mat and nibbles for the next day and had Fish and Chips dinner on our way back to George’s apartment.

We pass by Martin Place and stop a while to look at the flowers and read the heartwarming messages at the makeshift memorial. The tour ends with a view of the opera house and then the Harbour bridge. Justine dispenses tips on the ‘most ideal free spots to watch the fireworks’ to anyone interested. “Do not go to Circular Quay” she warns. Then adds, ” To find a good spot there, you’ve to reach there at 10 in the morning and wait the entire day in this heat. It’s suicide.”

31st December 2014 : The Big Day – We were at Circular Quay at 10 in the morning. The Sydney New Year Eve official website listed several vantage points for watching the fireworks along with their maximum capacities. This place could hold 26,000 people. Of that, twenty six were already here, lying down on their picnic mats, rubbing sunblock. No alcohol or glass was permitted on the premises. Upon finding a great spot** (after active debating), which meant unobstructed view of the Harbour Bridge and the Opera House, we settled down with our stash of nibbles under the hot sun to spend what was left of that year.

31st December 2014 / Sydney – After a hearty breakfast at Pieno Cafe on Crown Street, we walked to Circular Quay at around 10am to see if there’s empty space. There was. So we parked ourselves here till midnight. This was my view for the entire day.

That’s when we saw our neighbours – Megan from Wales and her Portuguese husband Becas. They were back from New Zealand and ending their 25th anniversary celebratory tour with the Sydney fireworks. “How romantic”, we gushed and got talking. There’s only one way to describe the short haired, chubby cheeked Megan. She’s a veritable force of nature that overpowers anybody in her vicinity with love, vivacity, humour and charm.

31st Dec 2014, Sydney – This is Megan. Of course, I had to draw her. I also got her to sign my sketch. Notice her surname – ‘Jesus’!

She has a big personality and a bigger heart that constantly expanded to accommodate more people. Megan took us under her wings and every other person who came over to sit near or around her – the Iraqi family from New York, the two pimply German guys who sang – ‘Deutschland über alles’ at every cue, the young Brit couple and the 20-something giggly selfie addicted Belgian girls. She would take turns to chat with each of us and every once in a while, call out a name and ask, “Are you okay?”.

This is Circular Quay at about 4pm. People were taking up the spaces in front of us and were ready with their cameras and tripods for an event that was still 8 hours away.

This is Circular Quay at about 4pm. People were pouring in from all directions and taking up any empty space available. All around, you could see bright ‘2015’ hats wiggling on heads, huge cameras and unwieldy tripods on standby for an event that was still 8 hours away.

As Circular Quay started filling in, the member’s of the Megan club, huddled closer to each other, with its hawk eyed matron at the helm, guarding and protecting our space and precious view. No one could sneak in and block it, although many tried. The picnic mat became her ‘home’ and we were its members who were bound by its rules. Like chanting a Welsh rugby cheer every time Megan felt there was a slump in our energy levels. “Group hug, everyone”, she’d shout and make us stand. We’d feel silly but get up like obedient pupils. Thousands of revellers at Circular Quay would witness us huddled in a circle with arms around each other shouting at the top of our voices, following Megan’s lead.

Megan : Oggy Oggy Oggy!

Us: Oi Oi Oi!

Megan : Oggy Oggy Oggy!

Us : Oi Oi Oi!

Megan : Oggy! ; Us : Oi!

Megan : Oggy Oggy Oggy!

Us :Oi Oi Oi!

31st December / Sydney - This is how Circular Quay looked like at 8:30pm - sea of revellers. It took my husband 45 mins to go through this crowd to the toilet stalls about 500 meters away and come back. The place had reached its maximum capacity i.e 26000 people.

31st December / Sydney – This is how Circular Quay looked like at 8:30pm – sea of revellers from every country imaginable. It took my husband 45 mins to go through this crowd to the toilet stalls about 500 meters away and come back. “This place has reached its maximum capacity” was being continuously announced. 26000 people had gathered here to welcome the new year and I was one of them.

And just like that, it was midnight. We watched the sky light up our faces in a million ways. This event was in our bucket list for years, at the centre of our itinerary, planned months in advance. It delivered what we’d hoped for, probably more and yet looking back it isn’t the spectacular fireworks that I remember from that day. It’s Megan, and her chants and her made up ‘home’ and ‘family’ that lasted for 14 blissful hours under a punishing sun. Such are the perks of travel.

*Tips for finding an accommodation during Sydney NY fireworks – Unless you’ve booked your accommodation an year ahead to watch the inimitable Sydney fireworks, choices become very limited towards the end of the year. In such cases, book a budget friendly accommodation as close as you can get from the CBD, that offers free cancellation and check back again for better options say two weeks before the new year – you’ll most likely find a decent place. E.g – We used booking.com to block a cancellable hotel in Chatswood, 15 kms from CBD in October and Airbnb to find our accommodation in Surrey Hills, a 15 mins walk from CBD, in the last week of December.

It is highly preferable that you stay within walking distance from CBD – you’ll thank yourself for this prudence when you look at the sea of revellers standing still outside train stations after the fireworks. Though I didn’t find a free spot, but university stays (http://www.universitystays.com.au/) could be an inexpensive and interesting lodging option in Sydney, specially during this time. Lastly, most places mandate a minimum stay of 3 nights – 30th Dec, to 1st Jan. So for easy availability, plan your stay accordingly.

**Tips on finding a good spot to watch Sydney fireworks – Check the New Year’s Eve official website and scout some of the vantage points in person, a day before. Find a place with a good view of both the Opera House and Harbour Bridge. Bring food, drinks, picnic mat, umbrella, sunscreen and anything that will keep you occupied. There are spots that do not allow alcohol and glass – take note of that when choosing. Come early by 10, latest by afternoon. Take it easy, be prepared to spend the whole day. Lastly find Megan. She will get you through the wait.

Trip to the Antipodes series : Melbourne

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25th December 2014 : Singapore to Melbourne – The flight was decorated with mistletoe and holly and in the middle of service, flight attendants pinned snowflake shaped brooch to their uniforms. “As a part of our special Christmas Menu, we have turkey today! Would you like to opt for that, Ma’am?” I was asked by the flight attendant, with immense hope and expectation, as if there was some tacit Christmas turkey consumption target, she had to meet and my choice of meal would greatly affect her cause. No thanks. I’ll stick with chicken I said and tried to smile as bright as her. I really tried. “How about you Sir?”, she moved on. ‘Ummm..what the heck..I’ll try the turkey!’ said my husband with enough benevolence for both of us.

Sketched on flight from Singapore to Melbourne

25th Dec + 26th Dec/ Melbourne : Inflight sketch from from my seat; Hot chocolate and muffin at Starbucks; Rice paper rolls bought on Flinders street consumed at Fed Square with seagulls and people.

In the evening, we jostled against hundreds of people to watch the Christmas light show projected on Melbourne’s Town Hall, had great dinner, clicked some praiseworthy photos of Flinders station, sipped warm coffee and munched on deliciously fluffy chocolate muffin at Starbucks. If the first day on the trip is any indication of what’s to come, we were pretty optimistic. Then, came the abrupt uncalled for, unprepared for rain right after the coffee people shooed us away at closing time. Without umbrella and jackets, we shivered in the cold under the shop’s awning in the peak of Australian summer, and after a very long wait, deep in the throes of the night with hobos and drunk for company, we finally trudged back to the hotel in clumsy rain soaked shoes.

Karma caught up with me. I should’ve accepted the turkey. And with grace.

26th December 2014: On our Own – As much as I love the Indian cricket team, I didn’t accompany my husband to the famous Boxing Day Test match between India and Australia held at Melbourne Cricket Ground. While my husband walked to his pilgrimage early morning, I set out to soak the city, explore, observe, experience and make impressions. It was a day with no itinerary and no agendas. I perched on the steps of St. Paul’s Cathedral and watched a sea of people, cars, trams criss crossing each other at the traffic signal.

26th Dec / Melbourne : Flinders Station sketched from the steps of St. Paul’s Cathedral. It was extremely breezy. I had a hard time holding on to the paper.

When my interest waned, which was by the time I finished this sketch, I crossed the road, bought myself some Vietnamese lunch from a Flinders street eatery and came back to Fed Square to finish it. The seagulls begged and begged for scraps but I was too hungry. The inimitable Immigration Museum consumed my entire afternoon and in the evening I went back to the same Starbucks for coffee and was quite pumped when the lady at the counter got my name right the first time. That instantly erased memories of the night before.

26th Dec / Melbourne : Right in front of the Starbucks was a green patch where stood this giant Christmas tree which everybody queued to take pictures with; Greek Dinner in the heart of Greek precinct was chicken and lamb souvlaki with pita and beetroot dip.

Having checked off one of the items on his bucket list, my husband joined me for sumptuous Greek dinner at DION. Between mouthfuls of souvlaki and pita, we talked about our day and tried to prove which one of us had a better time.

27th December 2014: Initiation to the Laneways – Vicolino Cafe on Degraves Street served the most surreal Egg Benedict I had ever tasted in my life. This breakfast perked me up so much that I immediately landed a detailed sketch of a creperie right opposite Vicolino in my sketchbook, while shuffling on the tiny stool I was perched on, in the cramped corner of a grungy back lane riddled with graffiti, exposed wires and torn posters. It was unconventionally atmospheric and an unkempt tipsy man slinking through the shadows with his beer bottle fitted the scenery seamlessly. Reams of tourists and locals streaming in and out of the narrow cobbled street, eating, drinking, shopping, people watching, fed to the palpable energy. We kept coming back like hopeless addicts.

27th Dec / Melbourne : Breakfast in the laneways;State Library of Victoria; Captain Cook's Cottage

27th Dec / Melbourne : I sketched this cute eatery called ‘Creperie’ while having breakfast at Cafe Vicolino on Degraves Street; a portion of the magnificent La Trobe Reading Room was tackled inside the State Library of Victoria; a tiny Captain Cook’s Cottage in the extreme right was sketched in the late evening under the tall shadows of English Elms.

Part of the day was spent admiring the fabulous octagonal La Trobe Reading Room in the State Library of Victoria. Ever since I read Pico Iyer’s insightful article ‘Shelter from the storm’, where he says, “..one of the best places to visit in any new city is the library”, I’ve been actively frequenting these emblems of stillness. Imagine cozying up to a musty smelling tome on a period reading table fitted with bottle green-reading lamps, under a spectacular white dome! I was wielding a sketchbook, but it had the same effect.

By the time we ambled through the splendid Fitzroy Gardens and arrived at the doorstep of Captain Cook’s Cottage, nobody was home. It was way past visiting hours. But the silky grass, the lulling breeze and the slanting rays of the golden sun causing the stately English Elms to cast tall sombre shadows called for a brief stopover. I captured some memories on paper before ending the day at Nandos. I sketched our food order number, which was 29, while listening to our neighbours blithely discussing their recent trip to Singapore. They sounded very pleased.

28th December 2014: Away from the CBD – Starting the day with a Laneway breakfast was a no brainer! Back on Degraves, Cafe Andiamo served the most scrumptious crepes with strawberries and vanilla ice-cream that melted by the time I finished my sketch. Well, the day was hot. And by the time we finished a 2 hours walk along the waterfront from Southbank Promenade to South Wharf along the Yarra, we were cooked and toasted by the blazing sun.

28th Dec / Melbourne : Laneway breakfast at Cafe Andiamo

A very long ‘passion fruit smoothie’ break later, we landed ourselves on a silky green patch of land beside the Ornamental Lake in Melbourne’s Royal Botanic Gardens, where I sketched this scene because sometimes you’re so overwhelmed with what you see, you need to express your joy and gratitude in some way.

The evening was quiet except for the screeching of the cockatoos. It was getting colder, pleasant actually. I took my shoes off and rubbed my feet on the grass, releasing a raw earthy smell. A slanting golden light coloured the trees, plants, bushes and shrubs of variegated foliage, arranged like little jewels along a turquoise lake, that held their reflection in absolute stillness. It was one of those rare moments when you sense a primordial connection with your environment.

Dinner was at Blue Train, back at Southgate promenade, which was now teeming with evening strollers and joggers. The lesson that I took away from eating here, was to garnish my future homemade pizzas with spring onions – it makes a phenomenal difference!

29th December 2014: Taking it easy – Just when I thought nothing could top my love for the stately English Elms of Fitzroy Gardens, we found the conservatory. It is one happy rendezvous of plants and flowers in all kinds of shapes, sizes and colours, arranged in pleasing designs. There are empty cages hanging from the top, a tiny bridge with railings at the centre and old fashioned benches for people to rest and take photos. Soft muted light streams in through the beautiful arched transom windows. Obviously I sketch.

Lunch was at Cumulus Inc. at nearby Flinders lane and I cannot say this enough – If you’re ever in Melbourne, eat here at least once. Unparalleled customer service (which seems to be the norm in Melbourne, though) pales in comparison with the food. Your taste buds will experience a firework of flavours. Probably this should be their tagline.

While I was sketching the conservatory, an old British couple breathed over my neck. They were pretty intrigued and while leaving said. "You're clever, aren't you?".

29th Dec / Melbourne: While I was sketched in the conservatory, an old British couple breathed over my neck. They were pretty intrigued by what I was doing and while leaving said. “You’re a clever girl, aren’t you?”. Ahh..ummm..mmm..I’ll be better prepared next time.

St. Kilda’s Pier hogged our last evening in Melbourne. We strolled hand in hand (more so coz I needed something to cling on to) on the historic pier with waves crashing on either side and the wind throwing us off balance. It was an exciting change from what we’ve been doing past four days. The day ended with an intensely golden sunset and the sight of penguins swimming to the shore at dusk.

When you hang out with sketch artists..

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a) You always get invited on Sketch dates.

And it’s pure joy. More often than not, the location is exotic and even if it isn’t, you have great company and even if you have great company you aren’t obliged to socialize, make small talk or mingle. Misanthropes fit right in. You get to sit in your own little corner, do your own little thing, talk as much or as little to the next person and it still doesn’t affect your chances of getting invited again.

Row of terrace houses at Emerald Hill. Tried sketching in a big format – about 40cm x 20cm

Last week’s location was Emerald Hill, right opposite Orchard Central and undoubtedly one of the most accessible and prettiest places in Singapore with rows of exquisitely conserved pre-war terrace houses turned into business establishments and homes. It is really hard to be not inspired here. Even though our path and enthusiasm was marred with a veritable rainstorm (for it is the wet season) the show went on as you can see from this fruitful harvest! Each one of us left feeling inspired, contended and with promises of future hangouts.

A dainty blue shophouse at Emerald Hill. This looks really well as my iPad wallpaper!

b) You order food that would render well in a drawing.

Colours, shapes, sizes take precedence over taste. And most importantly, right after the food arrives at your table and the tantalising smell starts flirting with your senses, you are able to exercise monastic restraint in choosing the fork over the pencil and an inimitable ambition to finish sketching before the food gets cold and/or your dining companion starts fidgeting.

Lunch at Sakae Sushi

After my sketcher friend finished placing her order at Sakae Sushi, she turned to me and brightly declared, “The Salmon and Tuna sashimi..aren’t they colourful?…I ordered these, coz they’d look wonderful in our sketchbooks”. I might have teared up a little.

c) You get programmed to see ‘interesting’ things wherever you go, in the most unassuming places and at all possible times and want to document that.

And in doing so, with practice, you become a chronic chronicler with benefits aplenty. When you start documenting something, you are forced to slow down and observe more. You become mindful of every moment. You learn to live in the present. This may seem like bumper sticker wisdom but actually has much longer shelf life and is a widely practiced philosophy even. Peter Matthiessen in his book Snow Leopard, says, ‘..the courage-to-be, right here, right now and nowhere else, is precisely what Zen,..demands : eat when you eat, sleep when you sleep!”

Drinking Honey lemon Juice at Toast Box

Only because I was with a sketch artist, did I take away time from my honey lemon juice to join her in drawing this bunch of vintage items exhibited at Toast Box – a ‘reflection of coffee shops in the 60s and 70s’ – as part of their decor. I walked away knowing every item on those two shelves and the ones I liked the most – the palm sized TV and a pair of antique looking (or antique) binoculars. Probably this information won’t serve me a great purpose but when I was there, sketching, I wasn’t thinking of checking my phone, answering emails or figuring what to cook for dinner. I was involved and emotionally invested in what I was doing. It seemed like a therapeutic exercise in mindfulness and left me richer than anyone walking off with just the taste of that overly sweet honey lemon drink.

Boat Quay and a bit more

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Last weekend the urban sketchers of Singapore, which I am a member of, chose Boat Quay (a popular tourist destination!) – a river embankment that curves around the shoreline of the north and south sides of the Singapore River – as their sketching venue. Before I describe what met my eyes, let me take you back in time. Like hundred and fifty years back. By this time, swamp covered Singapore once infested with wild animals, dense forests, pirates, and the Malayan Temenggung had been ‘found’ by 38 year old Raffles (in 1918), it’s allegiance shifted to the crown and it’s fate as a free trading post and deep water harbour for British merchant fleets in the Mallacca Straits had been sealed.

The settlement had developed considerably – forests had been cleared, hills flattenned, muddy pools and swampy ground levelled off, lands auctioned to build houses, business and residential quarters laid out, fundamental laws such as prohibition of gambling put down. Palatial hotels and European bunglows of the traders were lining the shore, while the locals – mostly Chinese and Arabs settled on the left bank of the Singapore river. Nutmeg, pepper, gambier, cocoa nut plantations, were starting to prosper, attracting merchants and traders from far and wide to the shores of Singapore.

Frank Vincent, a traveler describes the scene while approaching the dock in Singapore, upon his visit in 1871, “Like Malacca,very little of the town or city of Singapore appears from the sea…We steam past two or three war vessels, two telegraph steamers(which are only awaiting orders from London to commence laying a a wire from here to Hong Kong), and by some thirty or forty merchant ships of all nations to our anchorage in the crescent-shaped roadstead about a mile from town. We engage a Malay prow to take us ashore, and are landed near Hotel d’Europe, to which our good captain has recommended us”.

Circular Road, Boat Quay / Once again the mishmash of acrchitectural style of the shophouses and businesses they house today is so interesting – (from L to R) a Japanese restaurant, an office, a hairdressing salon named “Flair”, a night club named Kriselle and more offices.

The ‘crescent-shaped roadstead’ that Vincent mentions in this narrative could very likely be the Boat Quay, we were documenting in our sketchbooks for three hours last Saturday. The Chinese likened the concave shape of the dock to the ‘belly of the carp’ which they believe is auspicious for business. And so it was. While the north bank was reserved for government buildings, the south bank prospered as the commercial hub (this port was one of the most important in the British Empire, specially after the opening of Suez canal in 1869) lined with gowdowns, warehouses, merchant offices, shops of shipwrights and ship chandlers. There is no Hotel d’ Europe though, which used to be a stone’s throw away on the north bank and have since been replaced with the Supreme Court.

If you were a 19th century traveler like Vincent, driving by Boat Quay in a hackney carraige ($5 a day for a pair or $3 for one horse!), or a British clerk hurrying to his downtown trading office in a jinrickshaw (3 cents for half a mile for one passenger), you’d find the river bank teeming with bumboats / sampans (Chinese sailing boats), cheek by jowl, gently bobbing with the ebb and flow of the waves. A constant drone of human limbs stretching, lifting, scurrying across gangplanks would drive your gaze to the scores of swarthy men with taut leathery skin loading and unloading gunnysacks of cargo on their arched backs in the scorching equatorial heat. What remains unchanged even today is perhaps the weather.

Many original buildings have been preserved, but instead of stale smelling gowdowns, you have access to crispy fish and chips and chilled beer. These grand dames of the past now work as pubs, restaurants and night clubs. Commanding skyscrapers form the backdrop in place of ‘a fine view of the straits, the large island of Bintang (visible) in the distance and the Chinese junks and foreign shipping in the harbour‘ as described by Vincent from his luxury hotel.

Besides sketchwalking, a significant part of the weekend was spent at my husband’s office. He had to clear some pending work and I decided to accompany with a plan in mind. This is how it took shape :

Sketches of some random desks. I was interested in clutter and my husband's desk was a disappointment in this regard. I was so amused by the props at each desk - teddy bears, dinosaur, a pig (??!!) that grunts when you press its belly. Unbeknowst the owner of the pig, I had by fun.

Sketches of some random desks. I was interested in clutter and my husband’s desk was a disappointment in this regard. I was so amused by the toy props at each desk – teddy bears, a dinosaur and tiny soldiers, a pig (??!!) that grunts when you press its belly. Unbeknowst to the owner of that pig, I had my fun.