There are times when a written letter becomes a treasure and it’s all the better because it was actually created by the hand of it’s author. Brain to hand to paper to eye to heart.

Similarly, the direct sketch is made all the better by the knowledge that it was drawn by the hand of the artist at the actual sight of the subject.

Art ought never replace photographs. On the other hand, when my daughter, only 8 or so, agreed to sit for a sketch, together we created a tangable momento of that time in our mutual history and I think that speaks to a unique value art creates. Now she has two of her own at that age or older and two who are younger. Time marches on!

I have photos of another daughter as a baby, but none  are worth more to me than this direct sketch drawn of her at the hospital before she came home for the first time.

Last night I did the deed again. One of the children still lives nearby. Two days ago her daughter Juliette Rose was born. Because of the proximity, I was able to go see them. While I held the wee lass, I sketched her tiny face (no small feat, but the chair had a flat arm to put the paper pad on) and realized after it’s completion that it had a certain roughness when viewed head on.

But anyone who views it from a certain angle, somewhat from the bottom left, will see it as I saw it babe in arms in a chair. Then it will look right.

In time it’ll have some value. It won’t be just an image, it’ll be paper I touched, pencil I applied, and the view I saw with Juliette cradled in my other arm.

Long after I’m gone from the earth, that sketch will remain a tangible souvenir of the connection between two souls, better than a photograph : )