Art as a Lived Experience

Dear Sarah- Day 66 of our Daily Drawing Exchange

Dear Sarah,
March 7, 2025

There is a lot going on in this quiet corner of the Parador in Santiago de Compostela. You’ve seen this in earlier stages - and it’s not hard to tell where I began with more heavy-handed strokes and then settled in to be patient and finesse some of the finer details. [This was done on the iPad using Procreate and leaning heavily on a photo for reference.]

What is coolest to me, though, is the memory (or series of memories) this image evokes. After our gruelling journey to Santiago, Dad and I spent hours one afternoon wandering up and down the halls and exploring the nooks and crannies of the Parador, a magnificent hotel full of carvings, paintings, treasures of all kinds set in this backdrop that could have been a set from a period film.

After the trials of the previous three weeks, he and I took great pleasure in meandering and in each other’s company. We sat on the benches down there in the cool shadows under the arches and, years later, I took a pinch of his ashes and tucked them under a cropped hedge (not shown) in the centre of this courtyard. Even though you can’t see him, Dad is very much a part of this image, created on his iPad using his iPencil and, I like to think, whatever part of an imagination can be carried in the genes from one generation to the next.

Hi Nikki,
March 7, 2025

I think if you grow up around someone who creates art -- of any sort -- it becomes part of who you are, too. Maybe not in exactly the same way, but I think art will out. We both grew up in households where art was a lived experience, not just something in an art gallery or at a concert. And I think as we age, we become aware that art is sustenance, and we want to actively partake. I love that you are continuing to refine the drawing of a place where you and your father were together, marveling at the beauty around you.

Today I did something that my mother did all the time: I drew in public, which I haven't done before. At a car wash, no less. Here's how that went down.

It started with my headlights. You know how something bugs you, but you tolerate it, and then suddenly you can't? My car is 14 years old and for a while now the glass on the headlights has been yellow and cloudy. For a long time, I ignored it, even though it looks kinda gross and probably affects how bright my lights are. So today I decided to actually do something about it. First I took my car to be cleaned, inside and out. I have never done this before--I always do it myself-- but the thought of crawling around inside my car vacuuming up pine needles and cookie crumbs did not appeal. I thought maybe the headlights would miraculously become clear at the car wash. They did not. So off to Canadian Tire I went to buy a headlight-cleaning kit, after which I spent an hour scrubbing off yellow gunk. It actually worked, and I should have done it many years ago. Quite satisfying.

While I waited for my car to be cleaned, I started a drawing of one of the many pine cones that Kai bestowed upon me recently. This one, though, is green, full of intriguing bumps, and slightly reminiscent of a hand grenade. I felt a bit self-conscious but no one paid any attention to me. Good to know.

Time to forage for food.
XO S