“Bountiful Garden” (#365: Project 365 Sketches)

"Bountiful Garden" (#365: Project 365 Sketches)

“Bountiful Garden” (#365: Project 365 Sketches)

2013, Tue 31 Dec. Three hundred and sixty-four days ago, I remember telling myself that attempting this personal project was like tackling a 2.4km run round a track. The first few rounds would be easy. At some point there would be the inevitable mental hump; what was the point of running round and round the track when there were other things to be done at home and work? But experience also suggests that if I just chugged along, the inevitable end point will come.

What I did not expect was to find friends — familiar and new — along this little jog round the track. Thank you for your company this past year. Your cheers and friendly waves from the sidelines have made my run less tiring.

Three hundred and sixty-four days ago, my first sketch was of a lonely tree on a lonely island. In reaching the end with you, I found that the end point is a quiet and bountiful garden.

[Sketch Club app; iPhone. #365sketches #SGmemory CC-BY-SA]

“Waiting for the Satay man” (#364: Project 365 Sketches)

"Waiting for the Satay man" (#364: Project 365 Sketches)

“Waiting for the Satay man” (#364: Project 365 Sketches)

2013, Mon 30 Dec. He was with me, waiting for our Satay order. The stall was doing brisk business. He closed his eyes occasionally, amidst the lively and noisy hawker centre. I occupied myself by sketching him.

[Sketch Club app; iPhone. #365sketches #SGmemory CC-BY-SA]

“Flower blossom” (#363: Project 365 Sketches)

"Flower blossom" (#363: Project 365 Sketches)

“Flower blossom” (#363: Project 365 Sketches)

2013, Sun 29 Dec. This sketch was inspired by an actual tattoo on my colleague, and her story: Dance was the passion of her youth. But such dreams were aside in the interest of marriage, children and family. Decades went by. Kids all grown up. Her husband passed on. She, a widow, had become a distinguished woman in her field of work. Getting a tattoo was never on her mind but one day, she walked past a tattoo shop. For reasons not entirely clear to her, she walked in. The tattoo artist was perhaps surprised, for he seldom had matronly women as his clients. But she wasn’t merely curious. Today, she bears her tattoo proudly. It seems one’s passion has a way of manifesting itself. Her name, in the language of her ancestors, means ‘Flower’.

[Sketch Club app; iPhone. #365sketches #SGmemory CC-BY-SA]