Just before I turned into the road that goes down to Sponge Bay this morning, I was thinking about the Mindfulness Workshop I went to last Friday. The workshop was run by Tim Mapel from Hawkes Bay. Mindfulness is the practice of being in the moment, rather than thinking about things that have happened in the past or imagining things that might happen in the future. I realised that when I am sketching or painting, I am in the moment for the most part - totally focused on the work at hand. There is something refreshing about doing this - something restful. 

The moment I turned the corner onto Sponge Bay Road, I felt my attention start to focus on what I was seeing. I looked to see if the paradise ducks were sitting on the blue container, but they weren't there. There were large flocks of little chaffinches swirling over the road a few weeks back, but there were only magpies on the road today. They each flew off just at the moment my car would have run them over.

The wind was very strong - a westerly, tending north-westerly. I knew I wouldn't be sitting out on my deckchair to sketch. I took the camera and climbed up the hill behind the carpark to take some pictures.  I had to hang onto the tussock grass at one stage as the wind gusts threatened to lift me off the hill. This photo shows the carpark and the bay. 

I sat in the car to sketch. Because the year is turning towards summer, the light on the tops of the headland in the distance are just touched with sunlight. It will be interesting to see the difference in the light on this headland as the longest day (21st December) comes around. 

I started with thumbnails - the first two to play with composition, and the last the tones:

Unlike last week, I worked my own way - outlining the sketch (this time on brown Canson Mi Tientes) with a neutral raw umber colour. I began with the clouds and sky, then sketched in the headland, and finally the sea. I wish I could sketch with my sunglasses on as they are slightly orange tinted, and polaroid - the colours are so much more intense when I look through them. But they distort the colours of the pastel sticks, so I would have to put them on and take them off a hundred times. 

Here's the finished sketch:

On the way home, I stopped at my friend John Darkin's for a cuppa and a look at his blog. I love his writing - he writes for the Guardian Weekly, and also for our local paper, the Gisborne Herald. He's funny, and very clever.