I started painting a small watercolour of the same view everytime I noticed something new.
It’s amazing how much a single hill can change from day to day.
Train passengers, Helsinki 2009
I started sketching during my daily commute once more.
Train doodles 2009:
Helsinki sketchbook: Sunny Windowsill full of Cacti
Helsinki sketchbook: Sunny Windowsill full of Cacti, originally uploaded by Brin d’Acier.
As my day job grew more and more demanding, I had no time to paint. I realised I had to start sketching once more, simply to keep my artist self alive.
Inspired by Danny Gregory’s “Creative Licence”, I started drawing objects around me. It’s something I had done before, but not as a conscious exercise.
Travel Sketchbooks
After a while routines started to settle, and I drew less and less of my everyday surroundings.
Just as people normally don’t snap hundreds of photos on their way to work, but photograph everything they see when on holiday, my sketchbooks became synonymous with travel journals.
When on holiday, I drew on everything at hand, including my Filofax.
Hakone – Lake Ashi and Mt Fuji. After three days of waiting in the mist, suddenly the clouds parted in the morning.
The hotel’s room service menu included the following item: Watercolor kit so you can paint your own views of Mt. Fuji.
I found the idea of ordering painting supplies from room service great I had to do it. The kit proved to be as good as their breakfasts.
We still have the waterbrush that came with it.
The domestic tourist, Helsinki 1991
I kept drawing almost everyday, recording everything around me. I was living part of the year in Paris, so I felt like a traveler in both countries.
Rosanne painting ceramic sculptures.
Watercolour Sketchbook, Hämeenlinna 1990
I started experimenting with larger notebooks so that I could include more detail. We spent the summer in Hämeenlinna. While my girlfriend excavated a lost viking-age city, I drew and painted.
Weather studies, Helsinki 1989-90
Helsinki_1989_September_15_009, originally uploaded by Brin d’Acier.
When I moved back to Finland after ten years abroad, I found myself a stranger in my own country. I started exploring it, keeping a travel journal. I recorded the changes in light and weather, studied once familiar landmarks that had become exotic.
These watercolour sketches were done from the seaside at the southernmost tip of Helsinki, and show the 18th century fortress island of Suomenlinna, often called Gibraltar of the North. It is a just a ferry ride away from downtown, but in many ways remains a small village. In the summer it is overrun by tourists and picnickers, but when the last ferry has left, it returns to a slower rhythm. I lived on the island as a child, and came to school by ferry. In the winter, when the sea froze, I walked to school over the ice. Yes, it was safe, they even ran a road for cars over the sea, and there was a wooden sidewalk running alongside it.
Helsinki_1989_September_15_010, originally uploaded by Brin d’Acier.
Helsinki_1989_September_15_011, originally uploaded by Brin d’Acier.
Helsinki_1989_September_15_012, originally uploaded by Brin d’Acier.
Sketchbook_Helsinki_1990_020, originally uploaded by Brin d’Acier.
Sketchbook_Helsinki_1990_021, originally uploaded by Brin d’Acier.
Watercolour Sketchbook, Äkäslompolo, 1989 September 06
I started carrying a small watercolour kit with me when hiking.
I’m fascinated by mountains, by the way they keep changing colour. Even though they are immobile, they seem alive, like giant waves of stone.
Old Saame at the railway station, Sketchbook Helsinki 1989
The sketchbooks became a way of showing people what I had seen during the day.
Bibliothèque Fornay, Sketchbook Paris 1988
Bibliothèque Fornay, Sketchbook Paris 1988, originally uploaded by Brin d’Acier.
By the time I moved to Paris, I was sketching almost every day, recording everything I saw. I started using a fountain pen, the same I wrote my notes with at the Sorbonne.
Mille Croquis 