Urban Sketcher

Chapter 2

Swift swipes and graceful glides of paint and ink fill my small page as I continue to sketch the beautiful L.A scenery from a small cafe. Sketching and painting a landscape to me is like completing a puzzle, as you fill in each blank space it becomes closer to completion and looks more whole. As I fill in another window, I ad another piece. As I paint in a shade of green, I ad another piece. Little by little the page turns into art rather than something empty and dull. This is one of the many reasons I fell in love with Urban Sketching. It's also one of the many reasons why I am still sane and... Partly happy with life how it is.

Ever since Ty left 2 weeks or so ago, my sketchbook, pens, paint and pencils are really my only friends. Ty left for Europe to go study at law school and get a masters degree. Even though the last thing she told me at the airport was "I'll see you soon" we both knew this was the last. With no phones or any means of communication between us, this was it as we both knew it was. Tears streaming down our faces, bloodshot eyes and trembling bodies we hugged for the last time before she departed. Withdrawing, Ty slowly and reluctantly turned away taking her first steps toward the plane.

One foot in front of the other.

Closer to her dream, further from me.

Every step slowly and painfully killing me on the inside. Multiple blunt butter knives stabbing me in the heart with each step only bringing more tears to my eyes. Drowning in sorrow, choking on every click of her favourite heels. As she reaches the plane entrace as she swiftly swings her head around with her long lushious locks of hair flowing as she makes the movement, she flashes me a smile at me and then calls at me "LIVE THE ADVENTURE!". This was always our life motto, the motto I was going to continue living by.

Even though it felt like I was treading on shards of glass I knew.... This was for the better. Everything in life happens for a reason and what knocks us down only makes us stronger. 

Now I am here, living in my Jeep with all the belongings, clothes and memories I have left, With no one to turn to and no one in my life who I can talk to, I find myself alone. Carrying my most valuable items in my backpack. My backpack consists of a journal, watercolour paint palette, a few pens, pencils an a spare jersey and some gum. Of course I also have a wallet with money in there. This is what I just about live off from the money I earn from working at a small local art shop. I can only afford the minimum, this isn't going to last me much longer at all. I need help.