Venice



I returned to Venice this year for research on an upcoming book (2019!), and it was just as beautiful as always! It's such a magical and improbable city.


Nothing exemplifies this more than the elegant gondole that slide down the narrow canals and under the dozens of little bridges. Developed as a means of transportation through the shallow lagoon, these flat-bottomed boats have been a symbol of Venice for centuries.


Like the world's most elegant traffic jam, the gondole emerge from the tiny side canals into the bustling Grand Canal, twisting and pivoting with ease.


It's fascinating to watch the boats turn at fantastic angles, and watch the shapes distort and change so quickly with the leaning of the gondolino.


On the Grand Canal, they glide past elegant palaces in a dream-like cityscape that appears nearly unchanged since the Renaissance.


You can imagine, with not too much extrapolation, how incredible it would have been to look out from one of these palaces, with intricate pierced windows and marble mosaic walls and floors, as dozens of gondole and other boats passed by, with none of the speedboats or ferries of today. (This view is from the elegantly restored palace The Ca D'oro.)


As they continue down the Grand Canal, the towering Rialto Bridge emerges from around a bend. Replacing an ancient wooden bridge, the immense stone structure, completed in 1591, bends at a surprising angle over the water below.


As the Canal winds through the rest of the city, it finally emerges into the Venetian lagoon, crowned by Piazza San Marco.


Surrounded by the elegant colonnades of the Doge's Palace and the Venetian library, there is ornate and impressive architecture on all sides. The entire city is made up of overlapping influences from Turkish and Muslim sources, Gothic, and Roman architecture.


The Campanile soars above the Doge's Palace. It's hard to believe that this tower was built twice! Originally in 1549, and again after its collapse in 1912.


The square is surrounded by the endless Procuratie Vecchie and watched over by the elegant clocktower.


But nowhere exhibits Venice's eclectic architecture better than the incredible Basilica San Marco. With its patchwork of marble, columns, and influences plundered from the Byzantine and Roman empires alike, it eschews simplicity in favor of way-too-muchness. Crowned with Gothic, Byzantine, and Roman arches with glittering gold mosaics and elegant stone relief, it's hard to believe that it was once even showier with it's arched peaks covered in gilding.


If you get tired of the overwhelming architecture, the throngs of tourists (and occasional Venetians) make it a wonderful place or people-watching.


But really, who could get tired of that architecture?


For more of Evan Turk's travel illustration, check out the link below: 

Italy: Rome



I just got back from a three week trip to Italy and am slowly adjusting to real life. What an amazing country with so much beauty packed into such a small place! We were surprised by how much we liked Rome, and were a little disappointed we had only booked two and a half days there. Hopefully we will be back! For an imperial city, it feels unexpectedly inviting. The Tiber River carves an elegant path crossed by grand bridges, and many of the ancient buildings are draped with jasmine that perfumes the whole city.


We sort of just wandered from place to place, admiring every street, statue, and piece of architecture, and smelling every flower. Not a bad way to spend a couple of days! We drew in the piazza near the Pantheon (above) as we were serenaded by a street performer singing opera.


Then we wandered to the Piazza Navona and admired Bernini's Fontana dei Quattro Fiumi or Fountain of the Four Rivers. The allegorical figures represent the four continents and their prominent. rivers: Africa's Nile, Europe's Danube, Asia's Ganges, and the Americas' Río de la Plata. This drawing is of the Ganges on the left, holding an oar representing its navigability, and the Nile on the right, with his head draped to show that people did not know the source of the river at that time.


We also visited the Castel Sant'Angelo which was a wonderful surprise. Between its construction in 134 AD and 1900, it served as a mausoleum, fortress, Papal residence, and a prison. This mishmash of uses created a very unique structure with layers and layers of history. It also has amazing views of the Tiber River and the whole city.


No visit to Rome would be complete without a stop at the Vatican and St. Peter's. I had gone to the Vatican Museum when I was a kid, and really only remembered the Sistine Chapel. Nothing could have prepared me for the exhaustion of the rest of the museum. You are moved in hordes through beautiful room after beautiful room as they slowly lessen the air conditioning to thin the herd before arriving at the Chapel. The ceiling is incredible and well worth it, but by that point you really need a nap.


After the Vatican, we went to St. Peter's Basilica, and its impressive, expansive plaza. Inside, the cathedral is wall to wall heavy stone, mosaic, and gilt. It is beautiful, but in an oppressive, heavy-handed way. (Also, they don't let you lean or sit against anything to draw...)


Outside, in the much airier, but equally overwhelming plaza, crowds of tourists exhausted after the Vatican Museum slumped against the endless colonnade.

What a beautiful city; I can't wait to return! But this time, it was on to Tuscany...

 
This post is part of a series of travel illustration from a three week tour of Italy. For more of Evan Turk's travel illustration, check out the link below: 
 

Holker Hall Garden Festival


A year ago this weekend, Chris and I were traveling the English countryside and came to one of my favorite places we saw. We spent the day on the grounds of the beautiful Holker Hall in the north of England near Grange-over-Sands for the Holker Garden Festival. We read about it, and thought it sounded like the most British thing we could do: Flowers, show gardens, cheeses, sticky toffee pudding, and the most exciting, The Lamb National!


Adorable sheep in colored sweaters racing around a track and leaping over hurdles while being chased by a sheep dog! The audience favorite was the one nude sheep (gasp!)


Equally adorable English families came out to watch the festivities.

After the lambs finished their race, we watched the world famous Devil's Horsemen Stunt Team!


These amazing acrobats and their acrobatic horses can be seen in Game of Thrones, Braveheart, and a million other movies and TV shows.


Each horse and rider had its own personality, and it was amazing to see the intensely close bond that the horses shared with the riders. The animals were able to fall and play dead or feign a limp (for acting purposes).


The horses pranced in formation, moving deftly with barely any observable direction from the riders.


One of their biggest tricks was a race between two men straddling two horses each!


But the main event really was the people.


Well, the people AND their dogs, of course. So many characters! (We overheard that the little white poodle's name was Pipsy!)


For more of Evan Turk's travel illustration, check out the link below: 
Evan Turk Travel Illustration

Rainy England

 

It was a rainy day in New York City today, so I thought I'd post some drawings from some of the rainier days of my trip to England this summer. It rained for about half the trip, and although it impeded some drawing opportunities, I don't think I'd have had it any other way. The countryside just looked so much more English on the rainy days. The painting above is from the village of Ebrington in the Cotswolds, which is possibly one of the quaintest places on the planet. I started the painting during a brief break in the rain, but soon the rain began to pick up. The colors started to blend into one another, and everything took on a soft, squishy look that was much more what the village felt like. The mist dappled the watercolors and made them feel just like the moss that covered every surface.


Continuing the soft and squishy trend of the English countryside were the flocks of adorable sheep that dotted the hillsides. I painted these one very rainy morning from our bedroom in a local farm house that overlooked a field covered with sheep.


Sheep are hilarious looking animals, with silly, huggable shapes that seem predestined for nursery rooms and plush toys.


I couldn't get over how cute the lambs were. Often, two of them would run at their mother from a distance and begin suckling on either side with their tiny tails wagging.


The last rainy painting was from our journey to Highclere Castle, or as it's more commonly known, Downton Abbey. Like all good American tourists, my knowledge of English culture is dictated by a melodramatic soap opera with gorgeous production values! I have to say, TV show aside, the Highclere estate really is incredible. The house is surrounded by lush, rolling hillsides covered with dark forests, scurrying white lambs, and enormous bushes of rhododendrons and azaleas in sunset colors.

For more of Evan Turk's travel illustration, check out the link below: 

The Charles W. Morgan: The 38th Voyage


Why should you be excited that a historic whaleship sailed into a marine sanctuary and saw whales?

It is a valid question, and one I have asked myself as I became increasingly excited and passionate about the trip. On July 10th I boarded the Charles W. Morgan, the last wooden whaleship in the world, as a part of the 38th Voyagers program with Mystic Seaport, funded partially by a grant from the National Endowment for the Humanities. On July 11th we sailed into the Stellwagen Bank National Marine Sanctuary on a mission of peace to the first whales seen off the deck of the Morgan in nearly 100 years. It is an event largely without precedence in our country's relationship to its troubled history with the environment. To use history as the literal vehicle for scientific education about the future is something to be excited about.

Sunset, moonrise, and glittering moonlight over the decks of the Morgan

We approached the Morgan, moored out past the harbor in Provincetown, in the glow of a radiant sunset. As we climbed aboard and began our orientation, I kept rubbernecking to the sunset behind us. After the orientation we had plenty of time to sit on deck, talk amongst the voyagers, and watch the nearly full moon glitter across the water through the rigging.

Captain Kip Files

The next morning, after breakfast, we awoke and began preparing for our sail. Captain Kip Files introduced us to the voyage as we prepared to hoist the anchor and head out towards Stellwagen.

Chief Mate Sam Sikkema, Second Mate Sean Bercaw, and Third Mate Rocky Hadler

Chief Mate Sam Sikkema, Second Mate Sean Bercaw, and Third Mate Rocky Hadler (whose birthday it was!) kept the ship and crew moving smoothly as the 38th voyagers wandered about, oohing and ahhing over the experience of being on board.


It took the combined teamwork of most of the crew and guests to haul the 1600 pounds of anchor aboard. With the ship liberated from her root, the tugboat pulled us out to sea.


The tiny figures of the deckhands were suspended 10 stories above us as they climbed aloft and began to release the sails.

  
As the sails began to descend, the entire landscape of the ship would change from one minute to the next. The sails became like canyons across the deck, funneling the wind up and propelling the ship forward on her own power.




As they unfurled the mainsail, it billowed down like a heavy stage curtain until it filled with wind and held taut.


In full sail, the masts soared over the deck like immense, luminous towers that the crew would rotate to follow and catch the wind. The ship moved forward towards the Sanctuary, with its crew of artists, educators, and researchers.

Anne DiMonti and Gary Wikfors

Myself and the other 38th voyagers scurried about, working on our various projects. The scientists began their observations and measurements. Anne DiMonti of the Audobon Society and Gary Wikfors, marine biologist and musician, were two that assisted in dropping a phytoplankton net over the side to examine the types of microscopic life that were living in the bay. On a voyage into a whale sanctuary, it's amazing to see the other side of the size spectrum of life in the same sea.

Beth Shultz

Beth Shultz, a literary scholar, professor, and collector of the art of Moby Dick, was on board absorbing the sights, sounds, and smells of a whaleship and creating poetry from the experience. Other voyagers used photography, video, and historic navigational tools to record their fleeting time aboard.


Then came the moment we had all been waiting for. With the tugboat gone, we were at full sail and entering the Marine Sanctuary. Suddenly, from up in the masts, the shout came out: "WHALE!"


And there, just over the starboard side of the ship, a minke whale's arched back crested the water and slithered back underneath. This was the first whale seen from the deck of the Morgan in almost 100 years. We watched her fade into the distance as we sailed by, her glistening fin surfacing every so often until she disappeared under the water.

 

As we sailed deeper into the sanctuary, the whaleboat was lowered over the side, in the same way it would have been during a whale chase.


In the distance, we began to see spouts, the shimmering exhalation of the whales.


Soon we were surrounded by humpback whales, surfacing, feeding, and spouting. The tiny whaleboat gingerly approached them, becoming dwarfed by the massive creatures.


With no malice on either side, the crew on the whaleboat watched as humpback whales surfaced, fluked, and fed just a little ways from their boat. How magical to be in the same place as a whaler from the Morgan, but with no task to do, no prey to kill, just time to sit and watch in awe.


The whales came closer to the Morgan, raising their elegant tails into the air and mightily slapping the surface of the water right next to the ship. It's hard not to think that the whales are aware that they are communicating with us. Whether or not they were trying to directly say something, their actions communicated with us nonetheless. They were not fleeing, they were not attacking, we were merely two species sharing the same speck of ocean for a time.


The crew and guests, meanwhile, buzzed about in a state of euphoria. Nearby, prominent marine biologist and explorer Sylvia Earle was interviewed about her thoughts on the Morgan's voyage into the Sanctuary. She spoke about how until recently, and in the time of the Morgan's whalers, it was always taken for granted that there would always be enough fish, enough whales, enough ocean. It is only a new change in perception that we realize that, small though we may be, we have an enormous impact on our environment and it cannot be taken for granted that it will always be there. This new awareness fills the sails of this 38th voyage and propels the Morgan forward on her new journey.

Gary Wikfors plays a German waldzither built during the same time period as the Morgan as we were towed back into port.

The Charles W. Morgan is an amazing confluence of what is important about history, and what is important about the future. Her history knits together the entire world, through her journeys and through the men who sailed aboard her. The cargo she brought back, spermaceti, oil, and baleen, served as the predecessors of the plastics industry and the industrial revolution. The light created from the oil and wax of sperm whales lit the world of the 19th century. The bodies of whales fed hungry people across the world after World War II as mechanized factory whaling took hold and decimated whale populations.


Today, our oceans are in an even more deplorable state as we harvest them beyond their breaking point and pollute them beyond all reason. But as perceptions of the natural world change, whales offer a symbolic embodiment of this change. These immense creatures that were once floating commodities, are now seen as one of the greatest ambassadors of the awe of the natural world.


The sailing of this ship is not just an event that is important to New England and its community that is so inextricably linked to whaling history, it is of nationwide and worldwide importance. To be able to resussitate a piece of history and use it as a catalyst for education and change is an amazing feat, and one that can act as an inspiration going forward. History and tradition do not need to be impediments to change and progress; they can be the wind that carries this change.



Through history, people can reaffirm their connections to their roots, while also becoming educated and invigorated about how that history connects to the changes that need to be made today. Provincetown, from which I sailed on the Morgan into the Stellwagen National Marine Sanctuary, used to be one of the busiest whaling ports in the world. Today, it is a huge center for whale conservation and related tourism. A large part of the town’s image today is based around the idea that protecting and learning about whales can be good business.



Imagine if communities across the world, entrenched in history and tradition, saw conservation as a viable way to preserve those histories.  Because of the Morgan’s new message, the history and tradition associated with whaling will be relevant for many more decades to come.


The Morgan sailing again does not mean our oceans are fixed. It does not mean our relationship with our oceans is fixed. The Morgan's voyage is not a victory lap, but it can be the starting pistol.

To see video and photos of the Morgan's voyages in Stellwagen, check out the links below:

From Whaling to Watching

For more of Evan Turk's travel illustration, check out the link below: 
Evan Turk Travel Illustration

Israel: Jerusalem: Temple Mount/Haram al-Sharif


The Temple Mount in Judaism is said to be the place where God gathered dust to create Adam, the place where Abraham bound Isaac for sacrifice, the location of the first and Second Jewish temples, and the home of the Foundation Stone from which the Earth itself was created.


The Haram al-Sharif, or Noble Sanctuary, is the third holiest site in Islam. It holds the Al-Aqsa Mosque, to which Muhammed made a miraculous journey from Mecca in only one night. For a time, in the early days of Islam, Muslims were instructed to pray towards Jerusalem instead of Mecca, and the site of the glittering Dome of the Rock is where Muhammed is said to have ascended to heaven.


Unfortunately, these two sites are the exact same place. The Mount sits directly above the blocks of the Western Wall, the remaining piece of the Jewish temple. After the site was conquered in 1967 by Israel, it was immediately turned over to Jordanian control to avoid inciting a war, and it remains in their control today. It is one of the most politically and religiously charged places in the world, and is a pin in the semi-dormant grenade of the Israeli-Palestinian peace talks.


The ascent to the Mount is not made easy by any means. Non-Muslim visitors are only allowed to ascend between 7 and 10 in the morning and between 12:30 and 1:30 in the afternoon, so that they are only there in between prayer times. Non-Muslims are also not allowed into the Dome of the Rock or the Al-Aqsa Mosque. Islam maintains a very private, mysterious, and exclusive air in a city where religions are so jumbled.

Visits require strict security as the site often erupts into sometimes violent political displays and protests. Non-Islamic prayer is not allowed on top, so bags are searched to remove any books written in Hebrew that might be used for prayer.


Once the gates were opened, I climbed up a narrow, rickety plank to the top of the Mount where beaming sun, the gentle murmur of conversation, and several Israeli guards with machine guns welcomed me to the most beautiful place in Jerusalem. The expansive terrace is covered with gnarled old Cyprus trees, palm trees, glittering fountains, and students of Islam in quiet circles reading and studying the Qur’an under the twinkling shade.


Behind the gardens looms the impressive, glittering gold of the Dome of the Rock. After ascending a staircase and passing under a delicate archway, I emerged onto a stark, desert-like plateau. In the center, the Dome of the Rock stood like a fortress, immovable and imposing. Tiny, ant-like people moved around the base of the structure, dwarfed by its weight and austerity.

 

Its surface pulsed with intricate tilework and windswept Arabic calligraphy. Cursing my blonde hair, pale whiteness, and obvious not-Muslim-ness, I watched as men and women in long flowing robes passed in and out of the doors, freely able to see the beauty of the interior.


As my very short time on the Mount dwindled, I went back down to the Al-Aqsa gardens to draw the men and women milling about and reading from the Qur’an. In contrast to the emptiness of the area surrounding the Dome of the Rock, Al-Aqsa plaza felt very much like a college campus, with students (of all ages) passing to and fro, books tucked under their arms, reading and studying together in large circles, separated by gender.

Suddenly, the solemn quiet erupted into a howling chant that began in the distance and slowly began to move from circle to circle, like the wave at a baseball game. “ALLAHU AKBAR!” each group would shout in turn, until the entire plaza, and hundreds of people were all shouting with increased fervor. I continued drawing, not sure what was happening, until I asked a nearby man.


He told me that people were shouting because extremist Jews had entered the Haram al-Sharif with an armed Israeli escort. He said these Jews sought to destroy the Dome of the Rock and the Al-Aqsa Mosque to rebuild the Jewish Temple. It is true that an extreme, right wing Jewish faction is gaining traction in Israeli politics, and part of their platform is the rebuilding of the Jewish Temple on the Temple Mount. The shouting would start intermittently every 20 minutes or so, and last for several minutes as the Jews and their guard moved through the plaza.


As I was drawing the angry crowds shouting at the two men walking through, I became nervous that the onlookers might be offended by my depiction of them. On the contrary, it energized and excited them. Men began calling their friends over to point out people they knew in the drawing, and seemed very pleased that I had accurately depicted their anger. They seemed to feel validated by my drawing. I wonder if the Jews I drew in the picture would have felt the same way, and been equally validated in their reading of the drawing.

The Mount itself has become an illustration of whatever anger or righteousness each side of the divide feels entitled to. Within it are the seeds of Israel and Palestine’s most festering wounds and also the potential for its most poignant healing. Its contested nature is a testament to the deep, shared roots of Islam and Judaism: two seeds of the same fruit.





For more of Evan Turk's travel illustration, check out the link below: 

Grandfather Gandhi: Behind the Scenes


With the Grandfather Gandhi publicity train out of the station, I thought it would be fun to share some of the preparatory work and drawings from the very early stages of the book! We have been receiving wonderful reviews so far, even being named as a possible Caldecott 2015 book by Betsy Bird over at Fuse 8, who does annual predictions for the Caldecott/Newbery awards. She also wrote a beautiful review of the book, and really understood everything Bethany, Arun, and I wanted the book to do. So gratifying!


Once I had been offered a chance to illustrate the book, by Ann Bobco and Namrata Tripathi at Atheneum/Simon & Schuster, they asked to see some samples of how I would illustrate the book and the characters. 


Above were the first character sketches, where I played around with the idea of using fabric and thread in the illustrations as a way of referencing the spinning wheel in the story, and Gandhi's political movement for India to free itself from Britain by spinning their own cotton thread and fabric, instead of submitting to high British taxes.


This idea then became a major symbol throughout the book, with the transformation of the raw unruly cotton into useful yarn mirroring young Arun learning to channel his anger.


After I had been given the okay to illustrate the book, it was time to research and search for things in the manuscript to emphasize in the art. In notes on the margins, the idea of shadows and spinning as symbols throughout the book came out.


The idea of shadows showing Arun's emotional state throughout the book, came out of the thumbnail in the upper right-hand corner of the manuscript, with Arun literally standing in his grandfather's shadow (which ended up in the final book, too).


I then had a lot of fun playing around with colors, shapes, and patterns from Indian miniature paintings, textiles, and shadow puppets, to figure out the final look of the art. It's interesting for me to look back and see which things made the cut (the fabric, shadows, colors, etc...) and which things didn't (namely the patterned sky I seemed very fond of in the beginning).


 I wandered around the city picking drawing, and working out different ideas. In the drawing above, I was at the Bronx Botanical Garden, studying how plants were depicted in Indian miniature paintings.


I even came across a man on the subway who looked exactly like Gandhi (above)! 


The sketches got closer to the final look of the book as I started playing around with tea-staining the paper (with 100% "genuine" Indian chai! The final collages do smell nicely spiced...).


I was also able to see how the warm background enriched the already vibrant colors in the concentrated watercolors.


Finally, everything came together into the finished collage illustrations for the book! What an amazing project to work on. You can read more posts about the art in this book at the official site, GrandfatherGandhi.com, here: The Art of Grandfather Gandhi

Life Drawing



I just finished an amazing workshop with Dalvero Academy, drawing from the model for four days straight. It doesn't get any better than great teachers, great friends, great models, and tons of drawing! It's always a great place to explore and try new things. Here are a few of the drawings from last weekend.






Grandfather Gandhi


This past year I was able to do the illustrations for an upcoming children's book called Grandfather Gandhi (Atheneum/Simon & Schuster), written by Mohandas Gandhi's grandson, Arun Gandhi, and YA author Bethany Hegedus. It was a wonderful experience and it is so exciting that the book will be out this March.

Arun speaks to the choir.

I was able to finally meet Arun Gandhi this past weekend at an event for the Keystone State Boychoir in Philadelphia, where I donated a print from the book for a fundraiser and Mr. Gandhi was their guest of honor.

The choir is made up of students of diverse economic, racial, and ethnic backgrounds and offers dedicated members a chance to travel all over the world and experience new cultures through their gift of singing. This December, a group of 60 of the boys will be traveling to India to learn about the culture and about Gandhi, as well as to perform. The talented group sang many songs, including a Muslim hymn sung in Urdu, an Indian raga, and Arun's grandfather's favorite hymn, Lead, Kindly Light.

Arun translated the significance of the Namaste gesture and greeting in India as "I bow to the divine spirit within you."

Arun listening to the choir.

It was beautiful to see how all of the kids in the choir really responded to having Mr. Gandhi there, and how he was also humble, gracious, and very touched by their appreciation. It is not his direct lineage from someone great, but his own inspiring efforts to live by his grandfather's teachings as an individual, that make him worth listening to. He cautioned against people simply revering his grandfather without remembering to turn his teachings into practice. Arun's lineage gives him this platform to live by example and sow the seeds of those teachings in himself and a new generation of young minds.

 

It is a similar lesson to one offered in the book, Grandfather Gandhi, in that one does not have to be perfect to do great things. In the book, Arun wonders how he, with all his anger and imperfections, could ever live up to his revered grandfather. But Gandhi teaches Arun that everyone, even the now legendary peace activist himself, experiences anger. It is what a person does with that anger that counts. I thought this was a beautiful lesson to pass on to the kids, who are just starting out and are learning to allow themselves to dream of what great things they might be able to do one day.

Arun, his grandfather Gandhi, and his sister Ela.

It was a wonderful experience, and I am very appreciative to Julia Rasch, Steve Fisher, Martha Platt, Arun Gandhi, and everyone else for welcoming me and inviting me to be a part of the weekend with a great group of boys. I'll be posting more about the book as its release date gets closer!


Indoor Drawing


Seeing as Spring still hasn't come to New York, I've been getting my drawing fix indoors at Grand Central and Rockefeller Center these past couple weeks.


Both spots are always good for people watching.

 

You can always see interesting people and dynamics if you just sit and watch.


Whether it's people together...

 

...by themselves....


  ...or moving in a crowd,

 

there is always something new to see.

Morocco: Return to Fes


After the Sahara, we returned to Fes for a couple days and then headed back to New York. Morocco is an amazing place, but not always an easy one. It's exhausting and magical at the same time.

There aren't a lot of places in the world where you can make a drawing like the one above: There is a man riding side-saddle on a mule, who is stepping daintily over the cobblestones of a precariously narrow medieval street perched on a steep hillside, while a man in the distance twirls silk into thread down the long winding streets, as the sun begins to set, turning the whole street to gold.

I certainly can't wait to go back.

Morocco: The Eid

 

I'm back from a wonderful and intense trip to Morocco, and to start off I thought I'd post some drawings I did of the preparation for the Eid al-Adha which took place this Friday (Eid Mubarak!). The Eid is a major Islamic holiday that celebrates the story of Abraham and his willingness to sacrifice his son to God. In response to Abraham and his son Ishmael's willingness, he gave Abraham a ram to sacrifice in his son's place, and so Muslim people sacrifice an animal for their family as a celebration and remembrance of that sacrifice.

All throughout the trip we saw little glimmers of the coming holy day's approach: On bus rides we passed shepherds tending their flocks by the side of the road and trucks full of sheep being shuttled to town, and shopkeepers were more willing to give a good price to a blonde-haired, blue-eyed tourist to get a little extra money to buy a sheep. By the time we reached Fes near the end of our trip, the preparations were in full swing.


Outside the medina, sheep grazed in a nearby stable, chomping away and stumbling into each other, oblivious to their impending fate.

 
Families came to look at the sheep, and sometimes to select one for purchase.



Then came the parade of sheep down the tiny, maze-like alleyways of the medina. Sometimes they were rolled down the streets in carts, but often men picked up the hind legs and wheelbarrow-ed unruly rams down the hill, while children laughed and pulled their tails.

It was exciting to be able to see a part of Moroccan culture that tourists are not really a part of. The Moroccan/Tourist barrier sort of broke down when people talked about the Eid, and I got more of a feeling of what people were like outside the tourist industry. Little kids were just as excited to see the sheep as I was, and sat around watching me draw in the stable. Although the traditions and symbolism are different, the energy felt very much like the approach to Christmas with people shopping for last minute gifts, picking out the perfect Christmas tree, and the buzzing excitement of the coming celebration with family.



Disney: India at Animal Kingdom


Disneyworld is great because you have access to pieces from cultures all over the world in one place. On this day in the south Asian side of Animal Kingdom, I decided to create one long drawing as a mural design, to play with the type of storytelling and weaving of patterns that Indian miniatures use. Here are a few close-ups:

A hut nestled in the forest
The gibbons on their climbing structure
A family of Indian tourists
The tiger on the nature walk and the lines of people for a ride
The beautiful jungle and river that winds its way through the park