In the spring of 2020, as the seriousness of the global pandemic became clear, I decided to start sketching again. I wanted to create something beautiful that would bring joy to others and to myself during this difficult time.
As I said in an earlier blog post, “Rediscovering a Love of Sketching,”
I’m bound and determined to make this season of our life precious and meaningful, so things I’ve been leaving until “tomorrow” are now being done “today.”
And since we were staying close to home to curb the spread of COVID-19, my mind often filled with memories of places I had been. So I developed a passion for drawing buildings in far-off (and not so far-off) places that had special meaning.
These are a few of the sketches I did, a little journey I took through Western Canada while sitting in my living room with a pencil and paper.
Years ago, I attended a sunrise Easter service. Now, anyone who knows me knows that I can count on one hand how many sunrises I’ve seen. I am NOT a morning person. So, to actually set an alarm and plan to be up early is a huge ordeal for me.
But I wanted to attend the service, so there I was, up before 6:00 a.m., making my way to a cold, dark beach. It felt like the middle of the night. I was tired and grumpy, and I couldn’t see where I was going. There were little hazards everywhere, like random pieces of driftwood, uneven ground, and loose pebbles.
It’s hard to express how precious dance memories are. It’s not just a sight, a sound, or a feeling… it’s all of them together.
It’s moments… fleeting moments where the beat of the music met the footwork…
Where the fabric of the costumes swirled…
When people ask me what my cultural background is, the first thing I say is “I’m Romanian.” Then I pause and add, “Well, actually I’m one-quarter Romanian and three-quarters British… but I was born in Canada, so I’m Canadian.”