A new sketchbook.

It finally happened. I finished a sketchbook. This is such a strange phenomenon that I was in shock as I made my way to Aranda’s little art shop to ask for another one, but nothing could have prepared me for having to show the thing to another human being with eyes. 

The little art shop in my little town is one of those wonderful places where it’s possible to spend hours in discussion about the benefits of water soluble versus permanent markers, or stroking the pages of a blank sketchbook to see how it fits, all with the music of Chopin or Rodriguez playing in the background and a little synthetic fireplace keeping the whole place cosy. It is also one of those shops where the shopkeeper does the browsing for you, disappearing into tiny cupboards to search for exactly the thing you are failing to describe. For me and my Spanish speaking this is a tiny bit daunting. Try explaining to the lovely man behind the counter that you need a sketchbook that has more pages, but not too many (he put back the sketch pad as thick as a brick), and paper that is thicker than printer paper but not quite as thick as water colour paper, with the binding on the left hand side so you can draw lines freely… And the more frustrated I get from not knowing words the worse my Spanish gets, until he brings pretty much every type of sketchbook to the counter for me to examine and we communicate in a series of smiles, frowns, and thumbs-up.

Eventually I pull out my completed sketchbook and drew around it: “It needs to be bigger than this, with more pages, and the paper can be a bit shittier because I’m making a lot of mistakes anyway.” And he smiles: “I have just the one.” And there we are. But then he looks at my sketchbook and inclines his head:”May I see it?” And I, failing to think of the Spanish words to say But it’s not finished, and no one, ever ever ever, has ever seen the really shitty doodles in here, and this is a transitional book because I changed my head halfway through, and please don’t ask to see it! But the only Spanish word that comes out of my mouth is “Si!”

I don’t show my sketchbooks to anyone.

However, as the art shop man started turning through the pages over which I had slaved, he smiled at some, and frowned at others, and at the end gave me a big thumbs up. “I like this one,” he said, turning back to a page full of trolls. “And this one, too. Thank you for letting me look through your works.” And there it was. What surprised me was that, mixed in with the awful embarrassment and nervousness, it felt really good to have someone see it all, even the really shitty bits I don’t put anywhere near my blog usually. So this is what I have learned today: it is good to share even the shitty bits.

This is why I have made my first vlog, so I can share my sketchbook with you. I would love it if you’d comment to tell me which pages you like.

One more thing – if you’re ever in Aranda de Duero, visit the little art shop on the corner of the one way street leading towards the river, with two doors on either side. The man who runs it is a mind reader.

Doodle 22.02.16

This week’s attempts to teach kids. We’re learning pets. Spot the psycho hamster.


Bertie the Budgie


Doug the Dog


Cat the Cat


Doris the Goldfish


A Rabid Rabbit


Mikey the Mouse


George the Tortoise




Teacher’s Motley Crew


Doodle 31.12.2015

As this is my last post of 2015 I think it is acceptable to be reflective. I would like to reflect on the origins of my doodles, and where I got the doodling gene from. Therefore I present to you the artistic talent of my mother…

I think it is clear from where I got the knack of it. Apparently it is a hippopotamus.

Doodle 22.03.15

Rex and the mishap


What happens when Drake isn’t concentrating and knocks over a bottle of ink!

(Although, arguably, the red ink splash goes with the carnivorous theme. What do you think?)