Traveling. Currently high up in a hotel room at the Trump hotel here in lovely Las Vegas. The view is brilliant and the weather is strange, overcast and only 95F, unusually cold at this time of the year, according to locals.
Loving my sketchbook and the process so much, I barely want to go out. The shows and the shops and the tourists will still be here, I wont. Everything is new to me in a visual sense. Even the bare construction zone 47 floors down.
Going backwards few days, I was hypnotized by the Mojave desert, and at a certain time, close to midnight, the heat reached 107 degrees. The desert was a perfect wonder that night and we passed seemingly hundreds of hundreds of white wind mills.
Few days ago I was home in California, admiring the view of the new Bay Bridge from Treasure Island. Wondering how it might look like from Berkeley, the famous college town. Maybe something like this with it’s lush vegetation and diverse architecture.