'Draw a Dragon Mummy'.
So called because that was my daughter's reply when I asked her what I should draw one day. My daughter is obsessed with dragons.
Drawn a year ago in March.
www.lorriewhittington.co.uk
Next sketch one from my travelling sketchbook 2016 made this summer, this time from a very short; but exiting stay in Berlin. Our van in from of our friend's house, which was going through a lot of reparations and where I painted a big mural :) Enjoy
(Red biro on a 89mm x 139mm postcard) When technology becomes so intrusive on our daily lives that we feel we simply can't live without it, then perhaps the one-eyed man is truly king.
There’s a lot of waiting in life.
Waiting in lobbies.
Waiting on answers.
Waiting for braces to tighten, kids to grow, hearts to heal, or prayers to be answered.
I sat at the orthodontist, watching dollars tighten on tiny wires, and made this sketch. A tree. A house. A street. Color helped the moment breathe.
I remember once hearing a chess master say, “There is no waiting in chess.”
It confused me—wasn’t there always a turn to wait for?
But he explained: “There’s no waiting. Only planning. Plotting. Analyzing. You’re always thinking.”
I once repeated that to a FIDE master. He got mad.
Maybe because waiting and patience aren’t the same thing.
We can be still and deeply active inside.
We can pause without being passive.
And then there’s Lindsey’s voice in the back of my head:
“That sounds like a first-world problem.”
“Speak life.”
“Be thankful. Rejoice always.”
And she’s right.
So here’s to filling waiting time with something creative.
Something kind.
Something that turns a delay into a doorway.