Learning to Draw

Sometimes I draw with the pencils Alan Phoenix has left with paper for Martin Phoenix and me to use. This afternoon I sat outside on a big rock, with one of the larger sheets of paper on an easel that was in one of the closets here, and I copied the scene in the painting that is on the wall of the villa. I wish I could stand where the artist stood, so I could do the drawing from real life instead of just copying someone else's work.

When Alan Phoenix saw my drawing he looked at it for a long time, rubbing the hair on the back of his head until it stuck up in wispy bunches.

"This is very good," he told me. "You should save it in your portfolio."

"I do not have a portfolio," I said. "What is that?"

"A collection of all your artwork. Start saving things, and I'll show some of them to Madame Colombe if you like."

"Why would your artist friend want to see my drawings?" I asked.

"She might have some advice for you," said Alan Phoenix. "For example, I suggest you keep working on these landscapes—and pay attention to the proportion of the things you are seeing. The buildings, for example. Are they really this size in comparison to each other? Learn to look."

"I don't know where to look," I said.

"Draw something around you," he advised. "And really look at it when you draw it. People need to learn to really look at things in order to draw them properly." I wonder if he really means that or if he means that people need to learn to see. I am looking and looking but it seems as if what I see is the variable in question.