Where did you get that hat 2

It's not as good as the other girl's.

Sorry, 'tis the season for sequels.

Book 'em Danno

Rounding up the usual suspects.

A few loose sketches from the past few weeks.

Black is the colour...

...Of my true love's hair.

Her face is something wondrous fair,

the prettiest eyes, and the dearest sighs,

I love the tube on which she rides.

Actually I don't know her at all, but the song came to mind as I was sketching her.

Where did you get that hat ?

Oh, you knitted it.

St. Pancras Station, Platform A, 9.15, last night.

A quick one

Because I should be doing other stuff.

But I'm not. Snigger.

Me, you and them.

There were three people involved in this sketch...

Got into a conversation with someone on the train home the other night. I was sketching and he was playing a game on his phone and we started talking about passing the time to make the journey go by, and what we had done that day.

It was a good conversation. I wished we all talked more like that.

Anyway, this is the sketch I did at the time.

As soon as I had drawn the eyes I felt it was going to be a pleasing sketch. And that was important to me, knowing I had someone watching it as well as me.

And why is that ? Why does someone else watching alter my relationship with what I am drawing ? Why am I so fickle as to want to be seen to be good at this ? Am I not suitably reassured in my ability to do this by now ? Why is it so important to impress a total stranger ? Why is it so important to be validated like that ? 

?

Actually, now I have told you this there are four people involved in this sketch.

Getting awful crowded in here.

Swap over

I was sketching this girl on the tube...

...enjoying how her hair had been pinned up and liking how the sketch was going. And then we came to a station and while I was starting the shading she got up and left and this guy sat in her place.

And while I am also pleased with the scruffy lad's sketch, part of me is saddened that the girl sketch never got to go any further.

Which suddenly makes me wonder how many of all the thousands of Londoners there are I have never seen, never sketched.  I wonder if it's higher or lower than I think.

I have never, to my knowledge, sketched the same stranger on two separate occasions.