The Allure of Colmenar Viejo

The sun was setting as I arrived in Colmenar Viejo, a town that seemed to whisper secrets of the past through its cobblestone streets and ancient architecture. The air was thick with the scent of history, a familiar aroma that always draws me in. I was here to experience something different, something that promised a journey of artistic development and self-improvement. The drawing classes at C. de Santiago García “El Tranquilo”, 12, were said to be transformative, and I was eager to see if they could stir the same emotions in me as the decaying remnants of Soviet-era cities.

As I walked through the town, I couldn’t help but notice the juxtaposition of the old and the new. Modern cafes nestled between centuries-old buildings, each telling its own story. It reminded me of the hidden gems I often uncover in Moscow, where urban decay meets vibrant life. The anticipation of what lay ahead filled me with a sense of mystery and excitement.

The Art of Observation

The classroom was a sanctuary of creativity, a place where time seemed to slow down. The instructor, a gentle soul with an eye for detail, guided us through the process of seeing and measuring the world around us. We learned to draw vertically on an easel, to hold the pencil in ways that felt foreign yet liberating. It was a dance of the hand and eye, a delicate balance of observation and creation.

Each exercise was designed to challenge us, to push us beyond our comfort zones. We focused on contour, proportion, gesture, anatomy, modeling, and the shape of light and shadow. It was more than just drawing; it was about understanding the essence of what we were capturing. I found myself lost in the process, much like when I explore the forgotten corners of Eastern Europe, searching for stories hidden in the ruins.

A Journey Within

As the days passed, I realized that these classes were not just about improving my drawing skills. They were a journey within, a chance to reflect on what truly motivates me. We learned to stop, observe, and wait, to pamper what inspires us. It was a lesson in patience and love, a reminder to take care of what we do.

In the quiet moments between strokes, I found a connection to my own work, to the stories I tell through my writing. The art of drawing became a metaphor for my exploration of urban decay, a way to structure and simplify the chaos of history. It was a reminder that beauty can be found in the most unexpected places, if only we take the time to look.

Leaving Colmenar Viejo, I felt a renewed sense of purpose. The drawing classes had opened my eyes to new possibilities, both in art and in life. It was a journey I would carry with me, a testament to the power of creativity and self-discovery. As I boarded the train back to the city, I knew that this experience would linger in my mind, much like the haunting beauty of a forgotten Soviet building.