2003-10-20 - 1:16 p.m.
The sketching is driving me crazy. I've actually gotten better at it. But the more I improve, the more I want to capture and some of it just seems impossible.
Like the way a baby's face seems all forehead and cheeks. Or how vast the main plaza is. Just how many families and clowns and musicians and dancers and roving bands of teenagers and guys with mountains of balloons on their back are milling around in it.
How kids let their arms swing wildly when they are playing. How a toddler toddles. What exactly is he doing with his legs anyways? And that look, his eyes nearly bursting out of his head because it seems he can't believe he is actually moving forward of his own volition.
The millions of sharp, tiny pleats, the satiny sheen, those jewel tones in the indigenous women's skirts. The way the sun at dusk through the sky-scraper tall trees gives everybody a silver lining.
