On the second day of our stay in Taiwan, my aunt and uncle took us on a drive of the northern coast. (I’m not quoting from my travel journal, because I was too busy that afternoon to write about it!) First we went to Jiufen, a maze of shops and eateries that was the inspiration for the town in Spirited Away. I wish I’d known that fact before we went, instead of discovering it on Wikipedia afterward... I might have taken a break from sampling wild-grape juice and chocolate mochi to pay more attention to the architecture!
We spent several hours at Jiufen, weaving through the throngs and exhausting ourselves seeing everything there was to see. On our way down from the mountain we stopped at a few vista points, and then at Yehliu Geopark, where we saw a weird and wonderful beach of strange mushroomlike stones, including a famous one known as the Queen’s Head.
It was a lovely place right on the ocean, and though it was teeming with people, the huge silvery drizzly sky made it feel expansive. I first spotted the cape from the freeway miles earlier and knew right away that I wanted to paint it.
Erik and I separated from the group for about half an hour, so I could make my sketch.
As we walked around looking for a good vantage point, a white girl came toward us from the opposite direction. She would have stood out in any case because of her skin (I saw very few non-Asians in Taiwan, in contrast to Hong Kong), but she was also tall, lovely, gracefully big-boned, simply dressed in a knee-length, thin-strap black sundress and flip-flops — and alone, which was even more unusual for a foreigner. Did she understand Chinese, or was she just an intrepid solo traveler? I didn’t think I’d see her again, but soon we doubled back and I saw her seated at a bench with a good view of the cape. I took the other end of the bench and began to make my drawing.
I wanted to talk to her, to find out what she was doing alone in Yehliu. But I also wanted to paint and still have time to run around the park a bit, and I was afraid conversation would hold me up. The entire time I painted, she sat at ease on the bench and looked out at the overcast sea: no photos, no book, no cell phone — just watching, and probably thinking. The girl knew we spoke English, because Erik and I were talking to each other, but we had no idea about her. I wondered very much what her story was. I could see myself too, in some foreign country where no one looked like me, finding a busy-but-serene spot by the ocean and just sitting with my thoughts. Was that what brought her here?
Families walked by, the parents telling their kids kan ta zai huahua! (“look, she’s drawing!”), the kids demonstrating eager interest and then, in the blink of an eye, declaring “I’m done now” and running off to see something else. Loved ’em. There was one moment when Erik left to go to the restroom or something, and I put down my brush and looked up. The girl caught my eye and we smiled at each other. She looked at my sketchbook and said, “That’s beautiful,” and I said, “Thanks, thanks.” I thought she had a slight accent, but couldn’t be sure. Is there a good way to ask questions without launching a full-scale conversation? I liked sharing the bench with her, peaceful amid the sightseeing hubbub. I thought she might be someone I’d enjoy traveling with, and I wanted to ask whether she was doing all right with translations and directions and all that (or perhaps her Chinese was better than mine). But I didn’t want to talk, and she was surely too polite to bother the artist with small talk (or maybe she really didn’t know much English). So we just sat together, and then I finished my painting and got up. We waved at each other, and that was that.
There are more Jiufen and Yehliu photos at flickr, if you click any of the photos above.
I love this sketch! is the little red/yellow/blue detailing behind the rail representative of people? that detail is so fascinating to me.
Yes! Those are little people. For some reason a lot of them were wearing white, but I couldn’t depict that. It drove me SO crazy on this trip that I didn’t have any opaque white… I needed it so much. But then, it was probably better for me to not have it, because it forced me to experiment with different ways to convey white without actually using it. In looking at this sketch again I realize everyone looks like game pieces, all red and blue, but at least the sense of the crowd is there.
I found when traveling, that the most bittersweet moments came from the people I touched lives with so briefly. I wanted to know all the stories and never learned them. It was a wonderful part of traveling, and yet was also a sad part. Maybe someday you will paint her story, or write it, to answer your questions in your own way. I think it would have been hard at the time to talk without sacrificing that moment of art. Luckily, she also recognized that painting time and didn’t encroach. But what a mystery!
I did think about writing a story for her, but didn’t have time during the trip. Maybe someday! That’s partly why I always write these things down, so that if I ever do have the time, I’ll be able to look into my journal (or here on the blog) and remember, “Oh yes, this life touched mine briefly and I wanted to know about it.” Thanks for getting just what I meant!
lovely watercolors! Hope you will find a special place for these pieces. 🙂
Thanks, Apricot. 🙂 Right now they’re traveling with me wherever I go, in the pages of my sketchbook! (I kind of hate to dismantle the sketchbook someday if I want to frame some of these, but I suppose it will have to happen.)