I’ve been waiting for the right flower for a heavily-textured piece of paper and here it comes – the first courgette flower, like an elaborate piece of smocking. Drawing a bud, I swear that the petals are emerging as I watch. Over the past three years, the garden has taught me that what I used to describe as slow sculpture is anything but.
Still creased, the first hollyhock flower has only been out for a day but there’s already pollen scattered by messy visitors. I do a second sketch of a bud nearby – a chance to spend time looking at its double-layered packaging and neat folds.
I keep walking past the tub of marigolds and thinking “I’ll draw you”, then “No, it’s too obvious”… Today, I cave in and I’m rewarded with an overhead view of the astonishing way that the petals emerge from the smooth, sculptural buds, each a curled trumpet of oranges and reds.
All that with my morning coffee. A round of applause for the flowers.
Ballpen, watercolour and fineliner on handed-down watercolour paper.
Rose sketches from this project are available as greeting cards, from the Garden Museum shop in London and at Hackney Wick Underground.
On my Teemill shop, watercolour and line sketches on t-shirts and tote bags.