Where'd You Get the Book?

"Where'd you get the book?"

I'd sat down on a bench in Ketchikan next to one of the locals in order to add a little color to one of my sketches. We'd exchanged some pleasantries - he'd moved to Ketchikan three years before and loved it; I was there for a day, temporarily disgorged from one of the five huge cruise ships in port.

His question about my sketchbook startled me; was he interested in drawing, did he not know where to buy his own? So I showed him the cover - just a moleskin, one of the slim ones that come three to a pack. But he insisted, "No, where did you get the book?"

It took another couple of rounds of question and inadequate answers before I understood his meaning - he thought I'd bought a coloring book of sorts - a book of line sketches that I was proceeding to paint with my little watercolor box! Startled at the realization, I made some sort of fumbling reply - blank book, line sketches, watercolors, see here's my pen. But underneath, I couldn't help giggling with glee. Someone thought I'd bought my sketches!


I only really sketch on vacation, and rarely landscapes or cityscapes, since I'm more of a detail person. But this time around, my sketches were filled with cloud capped moutains ranging down to the sea, with a few oddball sketches, like the very rough one I was working on of Creek Street, thrown in. His belief that my sketches were worthy of publishing, even as a coloring book, made me smile, and the smile just wouldn't fade.

And yes, there were both salmon and seals in Creek Street, though only the salmon made it into my sketch (and you can't see either in the photo taken with my iphone).