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I have decided not to sketch too often on the train. With a few exceptions (the couple above, children with large stuffed tigers returning from the Ekka) everyone looks bleak and blank.
At least in the arcade (above right) they walk with purpose and coffee, while at crosswalks the waiting is a very temporary thing.
I have several favourites from the page above. The cafe where I was sketching is near a police station, and the girl in blue had wonderful shoes, but the small person in a striped cardigan running across the road with the hotel trolley still makes me smile.
In other news, I am getting through this week by concentrating only on what is absolutely necessary (and occasionally the guitar): work, a job-associated project, translation, vector graphics for a comic (worse than the knitting) and walking my sister’s long-suffering dog. On Friday night, I am allowed to look at the Worldcon schedule, and find a place to sleep for the last two nights in Melbourne. I have a good book for the train, however, and Red Vegetable Soup that is thick enough to stand the spoon up in, I have learned the chords for Alan Bell’s “Windmills” (admittedly not complicated) and politics is interesting.