The Newton Watercolor Society hires models during the winter months to teach us humility as we try to sketch a model who stays in one position for 2, 5 or 10 minutes. Izebel, our model last Saturday, is very experienced, modeling for art schools around Boston. Here is my effort to capture one of her 5-minute poses.
This Mexican market was even more colorful than my painting shows, with bags hanging from hooks all over the ceiling. The produce was plentiful, fresh and fragrant. Passing through the market was an overload for the senses.
Painting this picture for you made me think about how much of our fruit and vegetables come from Mexico or are picked in the US by Mexicans. As I passed through the Dallas and Boston airports to return home last Tuesday, every TV screen blared the headline, “Trump orders increased deportations.” If undocumented immigrants are now unwelcome, are their low-wage jobs in our fields, which keep our produce prices low, really jobs Americans want? Or should we be grateful to the men and women who do this backbreaking work to support their families, and who bring healthy food to our table?
When we were at the Botanical Gardens in Mexico, Linda and I saw a Vermillion Flycatcher. It’s a tiny bird, and the male is brilliant, as you can see. Like all flycatchers, it forays out into the air to catch bugs, and then returns to its branch.
The flycatcher we saw was unwilling to pose, but a photo I found on google images was much more obliging. Note the white dot in the eye, which is important when painting a person or animal if they are to look alive.
I arrived back in Massachusetts last night. Waiting in the passport line at a stopover in Dallas, I felt both relieved that it was so simple for me to get back into the U.S., and anxious for the many others waiting in line for whom it might not be so easy. Arriving home, I learned that Newton has become a Sanctuary City.
Though I’m home, you’ll be seeing sketches of Mexico for a couple of weeks, as I paint from my memory and photographs. These are from the Botanical Gardens near San Miguel Allende. You can see the cactus in the first sketch. It’s the winter dry season there, and the colors are muted green and gold. There were two young men climbing the rocks as I did the second sketch.
As in many countries in this latitude, rooftops in Mexico are an extension of the house, almost a second living room. On Sunday morning I stood in the rooftop garden and made this sketch of the hillside. In this deeply religious country, I could hear people singing at Mass in several nearby churches.
On Tuesday I will return to snowy Boston. Every Mexican I have met has been generous and warm, and I have felt I should apologize to them for the way they feel insulted, stereotyped and bullied by our new President. 
Why, in North America, are we so stingy with the colors we paint our houses? Here in Mexico, the houses are orange, yellow, turquoise, green and tan. Our house in Massachusetts is white with green shutters and a gray roof. What about yours?
Here’s a sketch of what I can see from the balcony of my bedroom in the house my friend Linda has rented. The fuschia bougainvillea grow up from the courtyard below.
The Parroquia is the central landmark in San Miguel de Allende, and is next to the Jardin which I sketched on Monday. The church is built of amazing pink stone which glows in the afternoon light. My sketch cannot possibly do it justice, so I enclose a photo as well.
On Saturday I flew to San Miguel de Allende at the invitation of my friend and fellow watercolorist Linda Rinearson, who lives in Newton but rents a house here every winter. Bruce isn’t that interested in travelling to places where you can’t drink the tap water (whereas I am intrigued to do so), so he is happily at home manning the snowblower.
San Miguel de Allende is in the central highlands of Mexico, about three hours drive northwest of Mexico City. It’s a lovely town, a UNESCO Historical Site, and there are plenty of Americans and Canadians roaming around. The Jardin (Har-deen) is the park at the center of town life, and Linda took me there yesterday. Here’s my quick sketch of one little corner, with a bench in the foreground and a street vendor in the background. 
Jesus is regarded by Muslims as a great prophet and messenger from God. Jesus is mentioned in the Koran 25 times. Moses, Abraham and Noah are also regarded as prophets. Mohammed, born in 570 A.D., continues in this tradition. All believe in the oneness of God, the avoidance of sin and idolatry, the day of judgment, and life after death. (See Wikipedia for more.)
When Muslims pray five times a day, they prostrate themselves as a sign of devotion to God. This morning, I tried this posture and then said a prayer. It was really interesting how it transformed my prayer. Try it yourself to see what I mean.
Tomorrow I’m flying to Mexico for ten days. I look forward to sending you my sketches to “take you along with me”!
More of what I learned at last weekend’s workshop on “Countering Islamophobia,” with a little help from Wikipedia. There are five pillars for any practicing Muslim:
Faith: “There is no god but God and Mohammed is the messenger of God,” is the central phrase repeated by every Muslim.
Prayer: Five times a day, beginning at dawn, Muslims around the world pray, facing Mecca, where Mohammed was born and the holy Koran was revealed to him.
Charity: Acknowledging that all things come from God, Muslims are expected to give generously to those in need and to reduce inequality. Recent research has found that Muslims give the most to charity of any religion, with Jews second and Christians third.
Fasting: During the month of Ramadan, Muslims abstain from food and drink from dawn until dusk, to seek nearness and ask forgiveness from God.
Pilgrimage: At least once in their lives, Muslims aspire to travel to the holy city of Mecca.
This weekend I attended “Countering Islamophobia,” a workshop that inspired this week’s paintings. I was embarrassed by how little I knew about the world’s second largest religion with 1.7 billion adherents (Christianity has 2.2 billion). Did you know that there are 3.3 million Muslims in America, with, like Christians, a wide diversity of races and ethnic backgrounds? Christianity, Judaism and Islam are the three sister Abrahamic religions, sharing a belief in a monotheistic God. We all worship the same God which 
we call by different names.
Yesterday was Bruce’s birthday, so we went to the Museum of Science in Boston. When we got tired of walking around, I sat and sketched their most famous dinosaur. They put a scarf on him (or her) during the winter months.
A couple of weeks ago I found myself at a mall without a sketchbook or pen, but with my iPad. Using the app Sketches, which is very user-friendly and also works on an iPhone, I made this little drawing. Can you imagine the scene I was looking at?
There is a lot of change going on in America, much of it deeply distressing to many of us. Please know that my art is not intended as a denial of our need to know or to act. Instead I hope it will be a moment of respite from the news of the day.
This little painting was made with cray pas, a sort of grown-up crayon. The contrast between purple and yellow, which are opposites on the color wheel, make it more dramatic. If the colors were green and blue, which are contiguous on the color wheel, it would be more restful. 
These little sketches were made with a Pilot G-2 pen, which bleeds when water is applied with a waterbrush. 
Several people have asked for prints of the Women’s March sketch from Wednesday. If you would like one, let me know by clicking “reply”. The cost is $40 for a matted 11″ x 14″, or $30 for a matted 8″ x 10″, plus $5 for S & H. Both are ready to slip into a standard sized frame.
The Women’s March on Saturday was astonishing. More than half a million in D.C., and a total of 2-3 million in 50 cities across the US and the world. My sketch does little to convey the walls of peaceable people who spread out, like an octopus, far beyond the official march route, onto the downtown streets in Washington. I was there with our two sons, two daughters-in-law, and niece. Andrew’s sign, “As a White Male, I Apologize for Trump” got a lot of photo ops. On the way home, the lines for the subway were three blocks long. 
My favorite moment of the weekend was on Friday, when we protested at the Inauguration. I was standing in line for the restroom at Au Bon Pain, and started talking with the man behind me. He was an ex-Marine had come from Missouri to celebrate Trump, and he was astonished that I was protesting. After a moment of silence, he said, “I spent a year overseas fighting so you would have the right to disagree with me.” I thanked him, and we hugged.
I’m working on a sketch of the Women’s March, which I will post on Wednesday. What an amazing event it was –half a million people in Washington, and over a million around the country and the world! Such amazing spirit, peaceful and generous people, and inventive signs!
Meanwhile, here’s a sketch of a coffee shop I did on location last week when my friend Candy and I went into the South End in Boston. I like to put people in my sketches, that I don’t put facial features on them. I’m not a portrait painter, and in my experience putting in faces, hands and feet into my paintings is the surest way to mess them up.
I’m in Washington, DC. with our sons, daughters-in-law and niece, protesting at the Inauguration on Friday and the Million Women’s March on Saturday, to express concern about Donald Trump’s temperament and his policies. We know that family and friends who supported Trump share the same hopes for peace and prosperity. May we get through the next four years together! 
This is the first sketch I emailed to a small group of friends a year ago, three days after I had both my knees replaced. I was following the admonition, “Sketch what’s in front of you.” Anticipating a couple of months of being laid up, my question to myself was, “What little thing can I accomplish in 15 or 20 minutes a day which will help me connect with friends?” And so these sketches began. I continue to love painting and sharing with you.
I’ll be traveling of the next 12 days, first to Washington DC to protest at the Inauguration on Friday and the Million Women’s March on Saturday, then to Kentucky to help my sister-in-law Jerry who is getting her knee replaced. I look forward to doing some sketching, if not in DC, at least in Kentucky!
When painting a complex scene, it’s best to simplify and eliminate a lot of detail. The question to ask yourself is, “What is my favorite part of this scene?” In this case, I love the contrast of the colorful fruits and vegetables with the dull winter clothing. I also love the woman’s striped hat.
My blog is launched! To see it, go to www.LynnHolbein.com.
For some reason I am fascinated by the idea of the moon on a snow-covered landscape with birch trees. Here is my latest version of that scene. 
I’ve been hired to do lots of house portraits on commission, but this was a gift to a wonderful therapist who helped me through the emotional angst (aging, vulnerability) surrounding my double knee replacement last year. I gave Amy this portrait of her house just before Christmas, when the red and green seemed seasonal, and the summer flowers a colorful memory and a hope for next summer. 
Today is the one year anniversary of my double knee replacement. For nine years before my surgery, I had increasing trouble with my knees, including five arthroscopic surgeries, and I was headed toward a cane and a much more sedentary lifestyle. Now I’m 100% pain free, in my 30th year of taking yoga classes, and Bruce says he has to hurry to keep up to me when we walk together.
I am incredibly indebted to my supportive family and friends who got me through the months before and after my surgery. But most of all I am so grateful for my wonderful husband Bruce who dealt with not only my pre-operative limitations and post-operative healing, but also with my “wackiness” as I suffered emotional ups and downs especially pre-surgery.
I am deeply indebted to orthopedic surgeon Dr. James Phillips, New England Baptist Hospital, Lasell Rehab, and Pro Sports Physical Therapy. We are so blessed to have access to modern medicine!
Our son Andrew and I have always enjoyed visiting art museums together, and starting in fifth grade I would call him in “sick” once a year, and we would go out to lunch and visit the Museum of Fine Arts. Though he is grown and married now, we still try to go to a museum once during the holidays. Yesterday we visited the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum in Boston. The courtyard was full of poinsettias. I did the drawing, and then the guard said I couldn’t use watercolor in the museum, so I retreated to the library to add the paint.
It’s really interesting how making a sketch of something makes you pay more attention and improves your memory of a place and an event — a sort of meditation. 
I have been painting in watercolor for over 20 years. I first discovered painting as an antidote to “being in my head” too much, a way to connect with and appreciate the beauty of Creation. Sketching what’s in front of you is also spiritual and meditative, bringing you in touch with the present moment, accessing what is called “flow”. But, like any skill, painting is also often frustrating, it takes a lot of practice, and there are lots of failed sketches and paintings in my recycle bin.
Many of my friends who paint want to win shows and become commercial successes. Those goals don’t resonate with me. I’d like to sell paintings in a modest way. But most of all, what gives me joy and motivation is to share my sketches and paintings with you.
Yesterday was the annual Christmas Bird Count, when birdwatchers across North America dust off their binoculars to do a bird census. My friend Linda and I did not brave the 4:30 owl count, or even the 6:30 regular count; we arrived at the Newton Cemetery, coffee in hand, at the civilized hour of 9:30. With rain falling on top of Saturday’s snowfall, the birds were scarce. But I made this little sketch, using pen and charcoal pencil (with a tissue to smudge) of a little island with birch trees in the middle of the pond.
I found this in an old sketchbook, which had lots of crap and this one painting worth saving. It takes a lot of failure to produce a little success!
What I really like about this is the slightly messy approach — a little pen mixed in, and overlapping shapes. Notice the pale pink leaves in the upper middle — paint dropped into a previously wetted shape. The magic of watercolor!
Our wonderful local library has a stream next to it where wild iris are blooming now. Today I got a chance to sketch them. Sitting on the grass in the sunshine drawing these lovely flowers felt like a little bit of heaven. 🙂 Lynn
