Chateau Orquevaux (part 2) - Sketching Through France
Is there such thing as too many sketchbooks? I don’t think so.
I’m a sketchbook devotee. In my studio, on the road, out in the field—there’s always one (or three) within arm’s reach. Studio tomes, travel companions, plein air pads, digital notebooks, catch-all’s, etc.
Each book serves its own purpose: rough ideas, color‑scheme experiments, miniature paintings, observational sketches—the list keeps growing.
When I travel, a sketchbook is non‑negotiable. Its small size and low stakes invite play, and every page becomes a snapshot of the journey.
All the sketchbooks I packed for France:
So happy I’m catching flies… Plein air painting in Troyes. Gouache on paper, Sold.
During my residency I didn’t travel light—I traveled organized. Five sketchbooks (okay, four plus an iPad) each had a job:
1. “Morning Pages” journal
Inspired by The Artist’s Way, I vowed to fill three stream‑of‑consciousness pages every dawn to silence the inner critic. Spoiler: words failed me—again. A few doodles slipped in, then I moved on. No guilt; four other books were waiting.
2. Main studio book
Already packed with notes, thumbnails, and inspirations for château paintings. You can trace whole pieces in there from first idea to final brushstroke.
3. Travel‑bag pocket book
Sized to the centimeter to fit my travel sling pack. Perfect for on‑the‑go ink sketches—trains, cafés, castle courtyards—whatever’s in front of me.
4. Gouache field book
A plein‑air add‑on recommended by an instructor: quick color studies of farm animals, half‑timbered houses, locals milling around town squares. Small pages, big discoveries.
5. iPad (Clip Studio Paint)
My digital sandbox. I drop in a reference photo and layer colors until the palette sings. Clip Studio’s brush engine feels closer to real paint than Procreate, ideal for testing compositions—not finishing masterpieces.
Five tools, one goal: capture every flicker of inspiration before it drifts away.
Painting En Plein Air With My New Gouache Sketchbook
The very first piece I made on the trip was a quick‑drying little gouache baby. The late‑day sun lit the treetops, and despite having only three prior gouache paintings under my belt, I jumped in. The speed is the medium’s magic: finish the last stroke, close the book, toss it in the pack.
Conditions, however, were brutal—numbing cold turned my fingers into thumbs—but the landscape was too gorgeous to stay indoors. Art asks and we oblige.
For gear, I left my full “big‑girl” plein‑air rig (see the Umbria post) at home and packed my sassy little backup: a cigar‑box pochade setup I’ve lugged around for years. She’s compact, dependable, and perfect for a fast fling of color—exactly what you need when every ounce must fit in a checked bag.
Sketching in the Chateau
Most of the larger paintings started as little hatchlings in my digital sketchbook. Using Clip Studio Paint, I riffed on reference photos—at least, that was the plan. I arrived armed with images culled from the internet and magazines, but they hardly made it onto the screen. Instead, I found richer material right beside me: my fellow residents. Photographing them and working those shots into studies felt truer, a way to honor—and remember—the community that shaped the residency. See some examples exported straight from the iPad.
Some of my favorite sketches came from our château life‑drawing afternoons—straight‑up magic in gilded packaging. Picture it: gold‑leaf moulding and a crystal chandelier overhead, sunlight streaming in through ten‑foot windows. The model reclined in an antique armchair that probably predates electricity while we circled up with charcoal and coffee breath, attempting to chronicle her in our sketch pads.
We sprinted through 60‑second gesture bursts, then sank into a single 45‑minute pose, watching the light creep across her shoulders inch by inch. Old‑World glam collided with present‑day art nerd energy, everyone chasing the same flicker of life on paper.
Peep the sketches below—I feel like they still smell like dust, coffee, and sunlight.
In Conclusion
I’ve added some extra sketches below so you can get a real sense of the trip—just snapshots, quick sketches, and moments that didn’t make it onto a big canvas but still felt worth recording. These smaller sketches help improve technique and often inform the larger works I create on canvas.
Sketching as a practice isn’t just for artists; it’s for anyone who wants to capture a moment. Whether you’re journaling, collaging, scrapbooking, or just scribbling in a notebook, recording your journey in whatever way makes sense to you is a powerful way to reflect and grow. Thanks for following along, and I hope these sketches inspire you to grab your own moments before they slip away.
