I am not from Boston, but I have lived happily here for two decades. I enjoy the city’s architecture, its bustling energy — the mix of people from all over the world, the walkers, bikers, and runners, the parks and museums and community events. I even appreciate the public transportation, imperfect though it is.
After setting aside an urban sketchbook habit that I had cultivated when I was new to the city and eager to capture it all on the page, I have reprised the practice of sitting outside and drawing whatever catches my eye.
COVID had kept me and my small children indoors. The MassArt classes I taught had become Zoom sessions. I was longing to get outside again. So, it turned out, were my students, who quickly filled my urban sketchbook workshop. I encouraged them to create for the sake of it, to be fluid and expressive and not shy about color. It was teaching them that brought me back to my own practice.
For me, keeping an urban sketchbook is about experiencing the city in a multisensory way. I notice everything: the colors of the buildings, intricate architectural details, the way the sun or rain or wind feels. And all of the sounds — birdsong, honking cars, the growl of airplanes overhead.
It’s a practice of exploration. I think I know how corners of the city look or feel, but when I sit with pencil in hand and really look, I realize that my perception is inaccurate. I need to start drawing and to take in the whole of my surroundings to get the full picture.
In a highly regimented life — work, single motherhood, co-parenting, teaching — keeping an urban sketchbook is also about releasing control, over the colors I mix, as the paints muddy; over linework, as my wrist moves unsupported; over the outcome, as I paint without planning.
This practice is also about experimentation with light, shadow, color, linework, and technique. I am not going for realism. I am much more interested in bringing emotion, atmosphere, and subtlety into my work.
To my surprise and delight, my urban sketchbook is also about connection — with passersby, who are curious to see what I am making. And with my students, who talk with me about artistic techniques, our shared fear of art, and how essential creativity is in our lives.
Finally, this practice of getting outside no matter the weather, no matter my mood, with paints in hand, is about reflection. When I sketch the city, even if it’s loud and hectic around me, I feel calm and quiet. It’s my time for slowing down, processing my emotions, feeling inspired, and dreaming.
Katia Wish is an illustrator, author, educator, and creativity coach who creates semi-autobiographical comics and writes and illustrates children’s books.
