A Rat in the Rough

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Time Drawn: 2007

I was going through my old sketchbooks and found this piece. I think I drew it not long after watching Ratatouille, which is about a rat learning to be a chef in Paris. This one isn’t directly based on it, but I liked the concept of “rat” and “city” enough to fiddle with it.

I drew this intending to make the foreground a black silhouette and the city layers of purples and other sunset colors. I still haven’t gotten around to it. I think it won’t actually be too difficult, so I’ll put up the finished piece next week.

I have a lot of unfinished pieces sitting around. I’ll get a concept, work excitedly on it, but then something distracts me and I stop. Frequently it’s because I got the concept on to the paper, if only in rough pencils, and my muse says “eh, good enough, have fun with the rest.” And then I find an interesting book, or even another concept, and I abandon the old one. It’s one of my personal habits I find most irritating.

That’s part of why I’m pulling out one of those unfinished ones and saying I’ll post the finished one next week. It’ll give me motivation to actually finish it.

I mean, I can see it clearly in my head how it’s going to turn out. It shouldn’t be TOO tough to get that on the page, right?

Right?

  

The mountains aren’t very large in this picture, but they are noticeable…

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Location Taken: Skihist Provincial Park, British Columbia
Time Taken: June 2010

I’m running short on time since the Renn Fest is starting up again today, so I can’t write a research-heavy post. So a sunset photo it is.

Sunset photos often turn out very well, thanks to the high contrasts in lighting. Add in fascinating clouds and lovely scenery and it just all comes together.

This was at a tiny provincial park wedged between the mountain and the Fraser River, literally cut in half by the Trans-Canada Highway. We only stopped there for the camping. It was one of the prettiest campgrounds we encountered that trip, and that’s with stiff competition.

I actually like State Parks (or Provincial Parks in Canada) a bit more than National Parks. The National Parks may have large areas of fascinating areas, but the State Parks have small spots of very interesting things. They’re just as good as the big parks, but can be easily explored and are almost always not very crowded. And a lot of them have rather good camping.

Though the camping is often a bit more full than you’d expect. There’s a bunch of people who just go to a State Park, buy a season pass, and just live there for months.

…Which actually sounds really appealing, when I think about it.

  

Can’t you just SEE the water ripping the rocks away!?!

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Location Taken: Columbia River Gorge, Oregon
Time Taken: June 2010

I’ve been along the Columbia River Gorge twice now. Despite trying every time they went past the window, I still haven’t gotten a really decent photo of the cliffs along the road. It might be related to that “going past the window” aspect…. Nah, that’s crazy talk.

There are a lot of cliffs along there, and they are all quite pretty. But this is definitely one of those places where knowing how things formed makes them fifty times more interesting.

It all started with Glacial Lake Missoula. Glacial Lakes are formed when the ice from a large ice sheet happens to block the main outflow of the meltwater. Like any lake, the water builds up behind the ice. Most lakes find a stable point, and for many years, so did Lake Missoula.

But ice is different from rock. It melts at the temperatures found on Earth.

And when it did, the dam broke. And the massive lake emptied. And the water had to go somewhere.

It followed the small stream formed by what little water got over the ice dam, but it could not hold all of it. It overflowed in some areas, and condensed itself in others. And when water condenses itself, it moves faster, and it tears the rock from the walls. Enough water flowed through that stream that it became the massive canyon, with high sheer walls, that forms an easy route through the Cascade mountains today.

Others just see the rock peeking out on the sides of the rock, and think they’re pretty. I look at them, and I see a massive flood filling the canyon in an exuberant dance of water and ice and rock. I like my version better.

  

The Gems of the High Hills

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Location Taken: Wyoming
Time Taken: June 2010

I love alpine meadows. Way at the top of the mountains, the air becomes too cool for trees, and even bushes fall away. It’s a land of low-lying plants, able to handle the heavy snows and short growing seasons.

And oh my, are they full of flowers.

All small hardy flowers, but they’re full of color and strength. They are rarely taller than the naturally short grass and peek through it like gems in rock.

The air is crisp and clear, the bones of the earth break through all around, and the ground is covered in flowers. Truly a magical place.

  

I wonder if any Martial Arts groups meet here…

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Location Taken: Grand Tetons National Park, Wyoming
Time Taken: June 2010

It’s amazing how much the Grand Tetons National Park’s visitor center reminds me of a monastery.

Mind you, that’s Eastern monasteries, Buddhist ones with low sloping roofs and rock gardens. You know the type, it’s used as a shortcut to say “hey, we’re in the Orient!” in far too many shows.

Now, this isn’t a perfect match. The classic eastern monastery has tile roofs, while this has metal, even if both have the same general lines. Tile doesn’t need the corner flashing to redirect water, either, especially not the large obvious version this has. And the rock gardens, while both contain large rocks strategically placed to look like islands in a flat sea, are very different otherwise. It’s not carefully groomed sand and pebbles here, but simple flat brickwork. Far less work to maintain, but not as pretty.

And with those thick whole-log pillars holding up the roof and the thick planking, you can tell they were aiming a bit more for the back country log cabin/hunting lodge look that’s far more common in this part of the world. And the rest of the place doesn’t look too much like a monastery. There are advantages to building in this particular fashion, since it helps keep heating and cooling costs down with the flatter roof trapping the heat closer to the ground, and the large open sides letting the natural breeze in as needed. I see this odd amalgam of Eastern and Western designs a lot in modern buildings, the ones designed to be environmentally low-impact.

Though I’m not too fond of the large flat brick courtyard. It seems like just the thing to absorb the summer heat and reflect it right back up, far more than even sand would, much less anything as plebeian as grass. They probably use it for events and talks, but it doesn’t seem like that pleasant of a material to be standing on for too long. I know how much my legs hurt after an hour or two on hard surfaces. Give me dirt any day.