On Palm Sunday, I sketched in Huntington Park, a perfect city square by Grace Cathedral, Nob Hill. The fountain there is very complex, and I thought better of trying to draft it, but the focus of my afternoon was this choir boy. He stood in his vestments and a tudor collar by the Fountain of the Turtles, looking at his hymnal, and turned to gaze back at me. It was a transcendental moment, one that perfectly reflected the focused grace of that place.
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