Next Inktober prompt is Roof. For this prompt I have some ideas, thank you to my husband’s photos of many places we visited:) I will add a link to his site.
Firstly, it is the Roof of beautiful Milan’s Cathedral with its graceful spiers and pointed turrets that are directed into the sky, and slightly pinkish marble walls are decorated with many sculptural images. Secondly, an ink drawing of extraordinary roofs in Provence, south of France. The warm and cozy brown, orange and yellowish shades of roofs with background of the blue water of the Mediterranean Sea are one of my coming art project:) Another option, the “roof” of yellow and red colours leaves’ trees in any Ontario places in Canada. The trees’ brushes are like ceillings for roads when you drive or walk. This nature “roof” looks the same in Canada and in my motherland Belarus or any place in Earth. And next idea brings me to the “decision” for this prompt that includes both Roof and Autumn, 2 in 1!:)
For the prompt Roof I am doing an ink drawing of lovely roofs of the pastoral town Rottenburg ob der Tauber in Germany we stayed once in the fall. Here, you can enjoy viewing of the little houses’ roofs with background of golden trees’ leaves that nature itself painted land in the Northen Bavaria. Rothenburg ob der Tauber is the place …its like you are in an alternative universe or you have gone back in time:)
This is the site with images belong to and can be purchased from Vlad Vitsenkou
And I am ready for tomorrow’s Inktober prompt – Pick
Still life and urban sketching. Where I convince tiny flowers to sit still for their portraits while dodging pigeons in European streets.
Why do I love daisies? Because they’re basically flower emojis that actually exist. Adorable, cheerful, and completely indifferent to my sketching abilities.
Daisies in the wild. They had no idea I was about to make them famous.
I genuinely hope to return to a truly cozy Norman village in the near future. You know, the kind where every cobblestone has probably been stepped on by centuries of people who knew how to properly enjoy apple cider and weren’t obsessed with their phone cameras. Picture this: leisurely evening strolls down the main street, gawking at the kind of farm architecture that makes you question every design choice you’ve ever made, ducking into tiny restaurants that smell like butter and dreams, and pairing crisp apple cider with slices of camembert so good you’ll question why you’ve wasted money on cheese your whole life.
White daisies: looking effortlessly elegant since forever. Unlike me before coffee.
Here’s a fun daisy fact that I definitely verified on Wikipedia (so you know it’s true): the word “daisy” is the French word “marguerite,” which sounds way more exotic and romantic. In Greek, it means “pearl” — which explains why they’re basically the Beyoncé of flowers. The English “daisy” comes from Old English “daeges eage,” meaning “day’s eye.” Our word “day” comes from “dawn,” so basically daisies are just flower alarm clocks. The term “day’s eye” refers to how the flower opens its petals in the morning and closes them at night, like a tiny botanical snooze button. Cute? Absolutely. Slightly controlling? Let’s not judge.
Early summer morning — the kind where everything is still wet with dew and the moist grass looks almost black in the shadow. This is the moment I attempted to paint marguérites (fancy name, same flower) in watercolor. Featuring the majestic shasta daisy: nature’s way of saying “I’m delightful AND low-maintenance.”
Watercolor daisies. Took 2 hours. They still look happier than I do on Mondays.
Plot twist: in the Middle Ages, daisies were called the “Romanov Flower.” Honestly, they should still go by that name. It makes them sound like royalty instead of something a five-year-old picked for you because you were standing still long enough.
In ancient Egypt, daisies were dedicated to Ra, the sun god. Clearly, ancient Egyptians had excellent taste and questionable work priorities. Meanwhile, the Greek name translates to “white flower,” which honestly is just giving up on poetry entirely.
Summer daisies at golden hour. Even flowers know how to pose better than most people.
Unpopular opinion: the whole “he loves me, he loves me not” petal-plucking game is deeply pessimistic and needs a rebrand. My version goes: “he loves me, he loves me dearly, he loves me tenderly, he loves me passionately, he loves me…” (you get the idea). This way, your mood is GUARANTEED to be good, and the daisy feels validated that she didn’t sacrifice her petals for nothing. The daisy is pleased. The daisy is wise. The daisy says: “Guess the right way, love and be loved.” So believe the daisy, because it will absolutely confirm that your person loves you! (Even if the original game said otherwise. Trust the flower, not the math.) 😊
Still life. The daisy was still. I was not.
Another watercolor masterpiece starring the glamorous Gerbera daisy, nature’s way of saying “regular daisies, but make it EXTRA.”
Want to nerd out about Giverny? (And honestly, who doesn’t?) Check out the Foundation Monet at fondation-monet.com/en/giverny/ — it’s basically a pilgrimage site for everyone who has ever been emotionally affected by water lilies and French gardens.
Can’t find it? No problem. Giverny’s address is 84 rue Claude Monet, 27620 Giverny. GPS coordinates probably not required, since it’s the place where literally everyone is taking the same photo.
Bon voyage! Until the next adventure. Stay happy, and hug a daisy for me.
All paintings belong to the author. No image is to be copied without permission. (The author has very strong feelings about this and also a decent lawyer.)
Art and travel club 