Saturday found me roaming downtown by the river, enjoying that “last rose of summer” aroma in the air as autumn moves in. You know that smell, still a little sweet, with the richness of wet soil and leaves beginning to decay. I didn’t really want anything from the market, having gotten the Fit of Domesticity out of my system the weekend before. But I was thrilled at what I found at the north end of the market – a brilliant red Studebaker pickup. It was clearly somebody’s baby, not a speck of dust on it, gleaming in the October sun like a giant red chile pepper. Gorgeous. And I don’t even really like cars! This is the first time I’ve ever been the least bit interested in drawing one – it must be the color that attracted me – and I have to say cars aren’t easy. I think it must be like the relationship between anatomy and life drawing – you really need to know a little bit about the chassis (now there’s an automotive word!) underneath it to make a believable drawing of the outside.
I remember hearing my Uncle Creston argue at family reunions with my other uncles about how Studebaker was the maker of the best automobiles on the road… funny how some words stick with you, so the first thing that popped into my head when I saw the Studebaker logo shining on the passenger door was an image of Uncle Creston. I’ll bet he would have loved this one!