Susanna's Sketchbook

November 6, 2009

Quiet days...it has been a welcomed week after the festivities of October. I want to thank everyone who participated in last Sunday's Dia de Bloglandia and to also thank those who came by for a visit.

I have been a bit of a homebody, catching up with little art projects and writing overdue emails and letters to family and friends. A new flock of winged messengers have flown off to their destinations this afternoon. If you are one of the people who requested a pair of winged messengers in September and October and have not received any by the end of next week, please let me know. If you are curious about the winged messenger project, please check out the Susanna's Winged Messengers category in my sidebar.

Recently, I got together with my good friend Rena, who is expecting her second child any day now. Rena is one of those women with an inherent knack for effortlessly looking elegant and she is also one of the kindest people I know. As always, I enjoyed spending the day with my friend, chatting about her young son and her visiting parents, about baby names and how good a hot mocha would be on chilly day like this.

June 23, 2009

The rider in Central Park, NYC.

July 19, 2008

 

While walking through a garden at dusk, when everything was cast in shades of blues, greens and purples...

I was reminded of a page I tore out of Vogue Italia once upon a time.

And that has me thinking of beginning a new project...similar to this one.

That evening, I came upon these beautiful paintings via Le Divan Fumoir Bohemian. They remind me of a certain summer night years ago, when a friend and I were driving home after photographing a wedding an hour or so north of the city. It had been a warm summer day but as evening approached, the weather had cooled and a fog had begun to form over the fields, like gauzy bedsheets hovering above the dark grass. We both were exhausted but I had to stop the car on the side of the road and drag my camera and a roll of film out into the field. Throughout the grass were thousands of purple flowers - or were they the white globes of dandelions? I can't remember what flowers I saw then but I remember how I felt walking amongst them. And I don't know what happened to those photographs, either, but I remember that summer night.