Sketches from around Newmarket 25-Feb-18

It was a cold auld afternoon, but a group of hardy sketchers managed to capture the atmosphere  in and around the Flea Market at Newmarket on Sunday.  Here are the results:
Austin

Christine

Des

Jessica

Alice


Chris


Laura

Louise

Pat

Pat

Sun 25 Feb Dublin Sketchers at Dublin Flea Market and Teeling Coffee Shop

On Sunday 25th February Dublin Sketchers are heading to Newmarket Square for the colourful and lively Dublin Flea Market. There's also loads of great buildings in the area to sketch, and up the road and round the corner the newish Weaver Park. The Green Door market is also on in Newmarket Square, while Teeling Distillery coffee shop has great views over the square. We'll meet there at 4pm for a drink and to check out each other's work.

Get sketching from 2pm. If it's your first time out, just pick something to sketch and get stuck in. Say "hi" to anyone wielding a sketch book. Don't worry if you're late, it's Sunday! You'll meet everyone at 4pm in Teeling Whiskey coffee shop.


Sketches from Rathmines on Sunday 18 March.

The rain made it harder to draw in Rathmines on Sunday.  We made the most of it in various pubs, coffee shops and vintage cinemas. Afterwards, we got together in the Bowery pub to chew the fat.
Alice

Austin

Balazs
Balazs


Christine

Des
Des

Des

Eamon

John C

John C

Linda

Louise
Louise
Louise



Mauro

Nina

Roisin

Dublin Sketcher's 10th Birthday Bash on Sunday 11th March, 4pm The Duke

Dublin Sketchers will be celebrating their 10th anniversary in March.

We will have the ...

Dublin Sketchers 10th Birthday Bash on Sunday 11th March from 4pm in The Duke pub on Duke Street.

Bring your sketchbook!



Dublin Sketchers Sun 18 Feb Rathmines and the Bowery Pub

On Sunday 18 Feb, Dublin Sketchers will be out and about in Rathmines from 2pm and converging at the Bowery Pub from 4pm to check out each other's work.

There's great architecture round Rathmines - the "big DOM" church, the town hall, the newly re-opened Stella cinema. You might want to venture up as far as the canal by Portobello Bridge. There's plenty of coffee shops with large windows for doing street scenes - Isabella's, Moda and a few chain coffee shops thrown in there too. Also plenty to sketch in doors in the Swan Centre.

The Bowery (formerly Toast) has been decked out like an old ship, so plenty of quirky stuff to sketch in there too. Their website is www.thebowery.ie

If you've not been out before, don't worry if you are late - most of us usually are. We'll be a bit spread out around Rathmines this week, so if you don't spot any likely looking sketchers when you arrive, just get stuck in and you'll meet everyone over a drink at 4pm. Bring your own materials.


Ulysses Sketch Crawl Part One - The Martello Tower and Forty Foot

Part One of the Ulysses Sketch Crawl across Dublin, Dublin Sketchers headed for the Martello Tower and Forty Foot bathing place in Sandycove to dive into the first chapter of Ulysses by James Joyce.

Jesse

Louise

 I've put in so many enigmas and puzzles that it will keep the professors busy for centuries arguing over what I meant, and that's the only way of insuring one's immortality.

Pat

Stately, plump Buck Mulligan came from the stairhead, bearing a bowl of lather on which a mirror and a razor lay crossed. A yellow dressinggown, ungirdled, was sustained gently behind him on the mild morning air.


Gillian

He mounted to the parapet again and gazed out over Dublin bay,
 his fair oakpale hair stirring slightly.

Alice

Rather bleak in wintertime, I should say. Martello you call it?

Jesse

Woodshadows floated silently by through the morning peace from the stairhead seaward where he gazed. Inshore and farther out the mirror of water whitened, spurned by lightshod hurrying feet.

Buck Mulligan’s voice sang from within the tower. It came nearer up the staircase, calling again. Stephen, still trembling at his soul’s cry, heard warm running sunlight and in the air behind him friendly words.
Dedalus, come down, like a good mosey. Breakfast is ready. Haines is apologising for waking us last night. It’s all right.
Mauro

In the gloomy domed livingroom of the tower Buck Mulligan’s gowned form moved briskly to and fro about the hearth, hiding and revealing its yellow glow. Two shafts of soft daylight fell across the flagged floor from the high barbacans: and at the meeting of their rays a cloud of coalsmoke and fumes of fried grease floated, turning.
James

 A tall figure rose from the hammock where it had been sitting, went to the doorway and pulled open the inner doors.

Mary

When I makes tea I makes tea, as old mother Grogan said. And when I makes water I makes water.
By Jove, it is tea, Haines said.
Buck Mulligan went on hewing and wheedling:
So I do, Mrs Cahill, says she. Begob, ma’am, says Mrs Cahill, God send you don’t make them in the one pot.
Mary

Seriously, Dedalus. I’m stony. Hurry out to your school kip and bring us back some money. Today the bards must drink and junket. Ireland expects that every man this day will do his duty.
Niamh

Niamh


Eyes, pale as the sea the wind had freshened, paler, firm and prudent. The seas’ ruler, he gazed southward over the bay, empty save for the smokeplume of the mailboat vague on the bright skyline and a sail tacking by the Muglins.

Chris

Billy Pitt had them built, Buck Mulligan said, when the French were on the sea. But ours is the omphalos.


Mary S

Our swim first, Buck Mulligan said.
He turned to Stephen and asked blandly:
Is this the day for your monthly wash, Kinch?
Then he said to Haines:

The unclean bard makes a point of washing once a month.
Jesse
Mary O'C

I intend to make a collection of your sayings if you will let me.
Speaking to me. They wash and tub and scrub. Agenbite of inwit. Conscience. 
Yet here’s a spot. That one about the cracked lookingglass of a servant 
being the symbol of Irish art is deuced good.


Jane
They followed the winding path down to the creek. Buck Mulligan stood on a stone, in shirtsleeves, his unclipped tie rippling over his shoulder. A young man clinging to a spur of rock near him, moved slowly frogwise his green legs in the deep jelly of the water.



MHBD

The bard’s noserag! A new art colour for our Irish poets: snotgreen. 
You can almost taste it, can’t you?

Isn’t the sea what Algy calls it: a great sweet mother? 
The snotgreen sea. The scrotumtightening sea.

Mary S

Is she up the pole?
Better ask Seymour that.
Seymour a bleeding officer! Buck Mulligan said.
He nodded to himself as he drew off his trousers and stood up, saying tritely:
Redheaded women buck like goats.

Momo

Are you going in here, Malachi?
Yes. Make room in the bed.
The young man shoved himself backward through the water and reached the middle of the creek in two long clean strokes. Haines sat down on a stone, smoking.

Leo

We’ll see you again, Haines said, turning as Stephen walked up the path 
and smiling at wild Irish.
Horn of a bull, hoof of a horse, smile of a Saxon.
The Ship, Buck Mulligan cried. Half twelve.
Christine

Eamonn

There's a touch of the artist about old Bloom...