More sketching in Darwin. Because it isn’t frantically busy like home it is easier to sit down inconspicuously to draw. No-one much seemed to notice, which was good.

I still don’t feel that confident about people coming up and asking me if I am an “artist” – I never know what to say because I always feel that an “artist” has to be “good” – whatever that means. Although I am beginning to think that it is more a state of mind than anything else these days – can’t we ALL be artists if we want to be? I hope that putting things on this blog might be a way to prove to myself that I don’t have to be embarassed about my drawings anymore. It’s a bit like coming out of the closet for me (in my case it is an art closet full of brushes, pencils and paints!) After all, as long as creating “art” makes me happy, what does it matter if someone else doesn’t like it?

I sat opposite this pub under the tree while my husband forced himself to put up with a Thai massage. Poor baby.