In the middle of drawing him, I felt the wind stir on my shoulder and had the weirdest sensation I was being watched. Next I felt a tap and Max, who was about four-years-old, introduced himself and informed me that I draw good. He then peppered me with questions in a very Elmer Fudd-esque accent – sorry kid, but I'll probably never meet you again, your mom probably doesn't read my blog and it was just too cute not to mention.
He spent maybe 15 minutes with me while his brothers and cousins climbed all over the rocks and frog. His mother asked me several times if he was bothering me and I said no, he's actually making my day.
I got
to the Gardens a little early – I wasn't sure
where to park and I wanted time for my warm-up
drawings to get the kinks and
first-drawing-of-the-day fears exorcised. There's no
pressure when drawing a sculpture like this one,
because how the heck will anyone else know if it
looks right or not?
After lunch at Arabica, where I tried my first wrap sandwich and found out what I've been missing, we spent some time in the Art Museum. I haven't gone since they started the renovations and as they aren't done yet, I probably won't be back anytime soon. Sigh. We did find my three favorites — Monet, Van Gogh and Chuck Close – so I was pretty happy.