Genuine Connections & Sketches of California’s Gold Country
California’s Scenic Highway 4
A couple of weeks ago my mom and I drove to the California Gold Country, a historic region on the western slope of the Sierra Nevada mountains, to visit longtime family friends who had invited us for the weekend. And who knows why, but we had not seen each other in almost twenty years! Sometimes the distant past seems like forever ago; not just a different chapter, but a completely different book. And at others times a memory or event from a decade or so ago can feel so fresh that it’s shocking to realize just how much time has passed. What I find fascinating (and comforting) are the connections that stand the test of time and distance. The type of connections where you can effortlessly pick up from where you left off, without any awkwardness or need for warming up with small talk.
This doesn’t happen with every longtime connection. I’ve met up with plenty of friends and acquaintances from the past, and though it’s fun to catch up and reminisce, there isn’t always that magic spark of familiarity, the kind of harmonious energy exchange often reserved for close family. I was curious to see how it would all unfold. Once we were off of the congested Bay Area highways, the peaceful scenic route was made up of distant mountains, miles of golden rolling hills dotted with farms, and small historic towns. The dry, hot weather was in great contrast to the misty sea breeze of my coastal California, and I relished in the easy access to diverse landscapes available in this state. When we finally arrived, they were waiting to greet us in their driveway, and I said to my mom, “Oh. My. Gosh. They look exactly the same!” And then came lots of smiles, laughter and that easy, familiar feeling when the connection is sincere and genuine. It was such a good time and so relaxing that it truly felt like a restorative getaway, and I enjoyed being in a part of California that I rarely get the chance to explore.
I meant to travel light with just one small duffle bag, but at the last minute I grabbed my art supplies and sketchbook with the intention of making time to sketch en plein air, but there was too much fun to be had with catching up over delicious homemade meals, strolling the charming main street of a nearby town, and moments of stealing away on the patio (AKA introverting) with a cup of coffee, or a glass of wine and a good book. Instead, I took a few pictures to use as a reference for when I returned home. I decided recently to make an effort to get more comfortable with using a sketchbook (and sharing the results). I’ve tried to get into the habit of using sketchbooks in the past, but would give up before really giving the practice a chance. The imperfection of it all goes against my tight grip on perfectionism, but I’m enjoying the more playful and spontaneous brushstrokes, and coloring outside the lines. As in life, mistakes, messiness and self-expression are part of the learning process, and sketching is a great way to connect with one’s environment through observations and experiments with shapes, colors, tones and textures. And in others ways it’s a practice in mindfulness, of being in the moment, and in the art of letting go.
Perfectly imperfect: the charm of watercolor sketches. I was becoming frustrated with the quality of paper in store-bought sketchbooks, but at the suggestion of an Instagram friend, I made one using my preferred Arches 100% cotton cold pressed watercolor paper, a 7 ring hole punch, and an old Filofax that belonged to my late stepfather (which makes it extra spacial). I love it, as the pages are completely protected and I can add and remove them as needed.
I’m a city mouse, but I appreciate the natural beauty of the countryside where open spaces and long roads seem to go on forever.
Whom haven’t you seen in a long while? Maybe it’s time to plan a reunion or to schedule that lunch date. And don’t forget to capture a few watercolor memories to keep. Time flows differently now that I’m a woman of a certain age, and I don’t want another twenty years to fly by, taking for granted the people and places that bring a sense of joy, refuge, wonder and deep connection to the experience of life.
