Boats on Still Water

I sat on a bench to look at the boats on False Creek. A lot of them were docked on the other side of the water, in Pier 32. But there were a couple of boats anchored in the middle of the creek too, and I thought that was very interesting.

It was a sunny morning and, although the days are still cold, it was a nice time to be outdoors. There were many runners along the sea-wall and people walking their dogs. But the morning half still attracts fewer people to this pretty side of town than later in the afternoon, so I sat undisturbed at my seat for the duration of this drawing.

Drawn with a Lamy Safari in the new Stillman & Birn sketchbook.

At first, I took out the Moleskine sketchbook I have been using for the past few months. It only has two pages left to go. But clearly the scene in front of me was not meant for a vertical orientation. Luckily I was carrying the new Stillman & Birn sketchbook which is not only in landscape orientation, but also good for a two page spread. So this drawing become a good deal longer than I had originally intended when I sat down!

I started with the boat in front of me. It was anchored in the middle of the creek. At this hour of the morning, there were some solo canoes, row-boats, and the occasional water-taxi plying on the water. Whenever one of them passed by this boat, the current would swivel the boat about its anchor, and my view of it would change. Every time I looked up, it had again turned a little bit!

After the boat, I went upward to draw the boats at the pier. I went left to right on the pier until a little distance after the boat. Then I went further up, meaning further 'back', to draw the trees and buildings on the horizon. It's no coincidence that buildings appear only on the horizon of my drawings. I don't like drawing buildings very much, so the subjects that interest me are in front of them. But any urban landscape is usually adorned with several buildings, so I'm content to let mine sit in the far distance. This lets me draw them with less detail, which works out really well for the job of making them appear 'distant' and 'out of focus'. All these things - my interest, my disinterest, my focus, my unfocused background - complement each other because I chase my curiosity in what I draw. I draw what interests me primarily, which is good for me and good for my sketch. It is also good for the viewer, because it lets them intuitively understand what I want them to look at.

Long after I had finished drawing the first boat, and also the second boat on the right edge, I saw a solitary person on a canoe. He seemed to bisect the line between the two boats, paddling with steady and practiced arms. He is the subject of this piece, if it has any human subject at all. I had to draw all the other things, right at that time, right on that day, in that exact way. It was all just setting the stage, for him to appear and everything to make sense. Pity I could not take a picture in time to include him.

I regarded the page for awhile after that, feeling like something was missing. I wasn't sure what. That's when I realized I wanted to draw the shore on my side as well. I drew the rocks going left to right again on the bottom of my spread. It was a way to cordon off the limits of the water, to enclose infinity inside a page. This is another thing I don't know if the page says to someone that looks at it. But it's a meaning it carries for me. And that's essential.

A long time ago, I saw an indie movie called - Supermen of Malegaon. It was the story of a group of resilient independent filmmakers in the town of Malegaon in Maharashtra (India). They have no money, no good equipment, and they aren't even sure what a green screen is. But they set out to make a superhero movie. At one point, the writer of the film says to the documentary camera - "Through writing, no matter how good, a writer can only communicate 10% of the pain they feel. The rest of the pain is for the writer to bear, forever."

This is how I feel about all art. It would be impossible for me to communicate the full extent of how I felt this morning, using these simple lines. I can only share a small fraction. But in order to share that small fraction, I must go through all of that feeling and those emotions - whether it is joy, or sadness, or melancholy. Then, and only then, do I have a chance at succeeding in making you feel something.

Does that make sense?