Travel Sketches Diary
At the end of October 2018 I spent fourteen days in Morocco. My daughter, who is a graphic artist, told me that she had a sketchbook with her and wanted to make sketches. So I decided on the plane from Basel to Marrakech not to use my Nikon and to make sketches instead too.
It is impossible for me to photograph and sketch the same subject.
From the Renaissance to Romanticism or the invention of the Samartphone, artists have captured their travel impressions and experiences in sketches. In contrast to a quick photo, which is also taken by chance during a conversation, a sketch requires full attention. In a picture it can capture the moment, the fantasy of the draughtsman and impressions that are temporally and spatially apart.
I have recorded my two-week trip to Morocco in over 120 sketches. They were made on the road in the car, riding a camel, in a sandstorm, in the city and in the desert. A selection is supplemented with one haikuvers each.
Above the two original sketchbooks. Below the photo book.
These are travel impressions for people who love art and have a critical attitude towards the smartphone.
For the family, friends and other interested people I scanned all the sketches after my return and published them in a photo book.
Marrakech
The wait in the long queue in front of the Jardin Majorelle was ideal for sketching.
I sit in the Zwin Zwin, and watch the evening sky with the Casablanca beer.
The cat doesn't think what I think it thinks. I learn from her.
The pharmacy will open sometime, then we'll go there.
Journey to Ait Ben Haddou.
World Cultural Heritage: An uninhabitable place as a film set.
The boy proudly sells two pomegranates on the side of the road.
The young guy says: Draw the beautiful one at the bar for mobile phone photo
Journey to M’Hamid
Each to take his sack for the desert. How little you need.
While riding sketching, high on the camel's back, is meditation.
Drawing and riding is action painting in a team with a camel.
Those who love freedom catch camels in the morning and release them in the evening.
Expressing love: The light breeze of sand caresses the dark dune.
Wanting to be alone, where everyone goes who wants to be alone.
A song like a prayer sounds in great silence. Tea time.
The sandstorm blurs the outlines before me, but I recognize myself better.
Zagora
The frustration and resignation of the poor donkey are as great as his burden.
There are motorcyclists in the narrow lanes, and miracle flowers.
