Sketch for Fatima.
Pencil on Hahnemuhle Aquarelle mat paper 450 gsm
12” X 9”
I sat lounging cosily at the table, having just finished a mezze lunch opposite my equally comfortable lady. Chat comes easily in this temperate spring.
The cafe is one of many on this street in Istanbul. Each Al Fresco section pushing out onto the street limiting the car-traffic to an indignant crawl.
Taxi-drivers verbally battle their slow progress along the cobbled space with locals and tourists alike threading dangerously all around them.
The din is magical.
In a place where the eastern extreme of Europe meets the western end of Asia; Where the calls to prayer mix naturally with the insistent chatter of lightly clad tourists, the world seems more alive somehow.
From the corner of my eye I noticed our young waiter look down and smile embarrassingly.
Following his distracted eyes I see an equally shy scarf attired, girl waiting tables at the restaurant across the road but one, throw secretive doe-eyed, flashing looks at the boy.
Isn’t love just grand!