I notice I dress up more when I go downtown. Nothing radical, but I consider my shirt, maybe my shoes.
Yesterday I headed out to execute a drawing at Atlantis coffee shop (corner of that nice British couple, Victoria and Hamilton). A guy from CTV was carrying his camera by the neck of a tripod, legs extended, looking before he set the tripod down at what the camera would see.
At Atlantis I sat facing south. The two crosswalks turned into legs, as I drew, splayed from the corner. I worked on the curb. The look of fabric bunching was all I could come up with. As I'd done before, I'd drawn an aerial view in which me drawing appears, a space I tried to blacken. Man, this one needed help.
I switched to the 3B (for Better Get Good in a Hurry). The crosswalks narrowd at the far ends, but I could stay there until rush hour and never get them right.
Later the 3B came back sharpened and issued this report: "The focus is wrong. Get tight on one crosswalk--white line and a foot or two of pavement." The rest of the drawing was cross-hatched out in the loudest way. I was left with a lane of the pool, end view, which might work, at the pool.
At my table at Atlantis I smelled diesel, glad I dressed for it. I didn't know what to do with the crosswalk now but cross it.