I spent all my summers growing up in Narragansett, Rhode Island. I still have family there, and my parents often rent a beach house for a couple of weeks, graciously letting me join them and take over their vacation time. The beach is my happy place.
One of my favorite landmarks is an old water tower just a street over from my grandparents' house. I always found it enchanting, with a fairy tale-esque and mysterious charm. One day, my grandfather took me there with my sketchpad and favorite Ebony Pencil while he brought along a folding lawn chair. He sat and watched as I drew the tower. At the time, I was a bit put out—did I really want to sit and draw while he watched me? But looking back, I realize he was nurturing my natural inclination to draw, even after years of trying to get me to throw a ball with him. I still have that drawing somewhere and plan to dig it out someday.
On my recent visit, I sat awkwardly in my car and sketched the tower in my sketchbook again. It brought back a lot of memories.