The Prom has been quieter these last few mornings. There are a few students dotted about but nothing like it has been. Perhaps it is a sign of the end of Fresher’s Week and the novelty of being here or being back. Or maybe they have settled down into the reality of having to actually work. Or perhaps it is symptomatic of the new ‘passport’ regulations for clubs imposed by the Welsh Government. I still saw some, like the two girls leaning against the window sill of the ‘Vaults’ eating, or the boy on a bench by Castle Point hunched over and reading (in that dim light) from a book or the lad, lying on a backless seat across from the sandpit staring up at the sky eating chips from a carton on his chest. The rain didn’t come and the wind was a mere whisper. It was nice to be out and quiet.
I read from Paul Hogarth’s book on pencil drawing while I waited for him to return with our weekly shopping. I had no idea that he too felt fear at the start of a drawing. He had his methods, some of which I might try and adopt. And he’d use the observers as a kind of energy boost. Not sure that I can do that. And that he would not look at a drawing he’d made for three days and if he didn’t like it when he did he’d chuck it. Should I be braver and draw bigger? And perhaps even invest in a camping stool?
