Lately, I've had a desire to sketch and paint local, urban subject matter. In the past, every time The Preacher and I took a Monday Funday day-or-half-day off, we'd take a trip to the Smokies. He'd haul his huge Nikon, and I'd drag along my portable studio...(an art bag filled with "just the essentials". Only - the essentials keep multiplying. hashtag Ihaveanaddictiontoartsupplies.)
After years of this personal art practice, after years of taking off on the occasional but pretty consistent Monday (I wish it was every Monday) I now have whole sketch books full of mountain and meadow scenes.
And suddenly, this week, I told The Preacher I want to tackle my town.
So we went and shot Knoxville all up this evening. Since sunrise or sunset or overcast are really the only times sane photogs shoot, we checked our local weather and saw that today or tomorrow would be peak time, this week.
Tip: You can only get to so many places during said peak time, when the light is luscious. We will have to do this again. And again. Looks like my Mondays are all planned out for the foreseeable future.
You know I hate that. Especially when it involves dinner out.
(today's menu)
(bathroom selfie - because you can't not.)
Disclaimer: every shot here was taken with my iPhone 6 - not my big girl camera. I just wanted shots for sketches and paintings today - The Preacher took the "real" photographs.
My town used to be called the "Scruffy Little City" a few generations ago. Today, it is beginning to rival Nashville when it comes to music and art.
My town has the iconic:
...and the weirdly iconic:
And if you watch closely, especially on any foreseeable Monday, you might see a preacher shooting up the city, all dressed in Volunteer Orange:
(His wife will probably be in a random bathroom, taking a selfie. Don't watch for her.)
This scene stopped me in my tracks, quite literally. Not the one above, of the cute preacher shooting the town - the one below.
The Preacher kept walking darn near a block before he realized he had lost me to this:
Isn't that dreamy? Now I have to go back and eat there. Right there. Nothing less will do.
The Preacher had to screech to a halt, and then sigh while making a U-turn on a sketchy side street, because I begged to be able to grab this shot out the truck passenger side window:
I will be out of the house and roaming my city.
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