Throughout high school, I was required to keep a sketchbook as a part of my art classes. The purpose of the doing so was to encourage and record meaningful exploration – sketches for future projects, experimentation with different mediums, drawings from observation, written critiques of your own work as well as professional work from gallery and museum exhibits, etc. For those of you who are unfamiliar with the structure of an IB Visual Arts Higher Level course, your sketchbook work accounts for 40 percent of your final IB exam grade, making your personal inquiry and inspiration just as important as the finished studio product.
In high school, sketching was a requisite for doing well in class and developing a mature artistic expression. In the first few years of college, I made the mistake of focusing my energy on the end product instead of the process, forgetting to carve out time for myself to reflect and recharge. It took me a while to realize how important this kind of visual reflection is for me, and how I had all but eliminated a crucial creative outlet for myself in the collective craze of extracurriculars and classes.
Over the summer, I purchased a moleskin for the sole purpose of making infinite to-do lists and taking notes during my internship. (Yes. I am that girl. Quick intern tip: If you’re not taking notes, you’re doing it wrong). Since coming to Sydney, I’ve slowly transitioned from using it as an organizational planner to a journal for sketching and (light) note-taking.
I thought I’d share my experiences abroad by sharing a peek into my sketchbook:
During the first session of the semester, I went on a four-day trip to Melbourne with my Australian Culture & Society class. The “field trip” was equal parts work and play, with required lectures and academic tours around the city balanced with plenty of free time to explore different neighborhoods and markets. I happened to nab a spot by the window during our morning lecture, and sketched the cityscape while learning about the infamous Sydney/Melbourne rivalry.
Contrary to what it may seem like, there is an academic component to studying abroad. After the Melbourne trip, I wrote an ethnography about how street art has become an embedded and iconic part of Melbourne’s urban landscape. Despite its strong stance against illegal graffiti, the city government takes a surprisingly nuanced approach to the intrinsic impossibility of preserving legal graffiti as street art. By its nature, street art isn’t meant to last. As I explored Melbourne’s laneways and recorded my observations, I noticed how dynamic the spaces were, evolving endlessly alongside the city and its inhabitants in a constant cycle of creation and destruction.
In my Australian Literature class, I read a variety of hallmark texts by Australian writers, ranging from poetry to plays and novels. My final paper focused on how creating a sense of place has become one of the most distinguishing characteristics of the Australian autobiography. I did a comparative analysis of two texts, a contemporary memoir (Robert Drewe’s The Shark Net) and a classic work of autobiographical fiction (Sumner Locke Elliott’s Careful, He Might Hear You) – both of which I highly recommend reading! I argued that the process of re-imagining space along two different axes of time, the present and the past, mirrors the mythologizing experience of writing as imagination working on life.
During the second session of the semester, I’m taking a class on the Australian wine industry, which (unfortunately…or fortunately depending on what side of the boxed wine debate you fall on) is more than just learning how to swirl a wine glass in a pretentious manner. The course is taught by two quirky professors who ran their own vineyard and winery for twelve years, and is one of the most comprehensive and detailed subjects I’ve ever taken. So far, we’ve covered the basics of wine regions, grape varieties, Australia’s positioning in local and global markets, Old and New World approaches to wine-making and viticulture, and much more. Last class, we brought in a professional wine consultant (Yes, this is a real job and no, I haven’t yet figured out how to be one) for a wine tasting to learn how to distinguish red and white varietals by sight/smell/taste and pair them with food.
The wine-tasting note above is one of six that I’m required to complete outside of class. We’re encouraged to “drink thoughtfully” and record comments on sight, aroma, savour, and food matches. I tried a merlot from the Orange wine region in New South Wales, though that particular region is more known for its Sauvignon Blanc. To be honest, I bought the bottle because I liked the wine label…sue me for being a mindless consumer who buys things based on how pretty the packaging is.
Inspired by the Instagram, @_eavesdropper, I doodled this quote I overheard at my internship. Despite what the quote might indicate, I work with really intelligent and motivated people. Murdoch Books is an imprint of Allen & Unwin, the largest independent book publisher in Australia. Murdoch specializes in illustrated books in the Gardening, Lifestyle, Travel, and Food categories and I work in the publicity department four days a week. The in-house photography and design is beautiful, and everyone has really gone out of their way to be as welcoming as possible.
This sketch is one of my personal favorites. I stumbled upon this quote while researching street artists for my ethnography, and added it to a drawing I did a while back. Phoenix the Street Artist is well-known for his collage paste-ups around Australia and is my current favorite artist. His body of work is prolific and so inspiring, often featuring surrealist imagery and poetic statements like the one above.
Happy Halloween!