I like to draw, I like to travel, I like to draw when I travel. Drawing I find myself alone, even when surrounded, and at peace with my paper, my pen, and the beauty before me; time stops. Drawing while traveling is an even better experience because each stroke of my pen is a memory of a golden afternoon leaning against an ancient wall, taking in the light, the smells, the sounds. The process of studying my subject brings me into communion with it (be it a building, a statue, a garden, a person) in a way that a click of the camera would not do, for in those precious moments in which I strike the paper with my pen, I live in beauty's space.
But woe to the person (my husband John) who travels with me and has to endure these transports! My travel companion will either have to sit with me and draw, find entertainment elsewhere, or enjoy my company in silence, accepting the fact that I will not move until I am finished (or a rude tourist elbows me out of the way, I am looking at you, tourist from the Louvre who ruined my angle of the Venus of Milo because you needed to take a picture!). John happens to accept the third option, he sits in silence next to me occasionally praising, occasionally pointing out that I've lost my perspective; after 10 years of this routine he has developed a critical eye for the artistic. I sense that he likes to watch me draw and he swells with pride when strangers stop to look and to take pictures, yes, pictures of me drawing! Maybe John was inspired by the strangers, maybe he wanted to include me in my own picture, as I am never the subject; whichever the case may be, during our recent trip to Spain John decided to take photos of me every time I took out my leather bound journal, sometimes capturing my point of view along with my likeness:
|Mirador de la Lindaraja. The Alhambra. Granada, Spain.|
All images by Nadia Palacios Lauterbach and John Lauterbach.
All work presented here is the intellectual property of Nadia Palacios Lauterbach.