There are few places where so much movement exists alongside so much patience. During race week at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway, every corner seemed to have its own story unfolding—crews preparing cars with practiced precision, drivers finding quiet moments before the noise, photographers weaving through the garages, and generations of fans returning to a place that has become part of their family history. It felt less like attending a race and more like stepping inside a living tradition.

Rather than chasing the biggest moments, I spent most of my time looking for the ones that are easy to miss. A mechanic leaning over an engine. A crew member waiting against the pit wall. A driver lost in thought. These are the scenes that rarely make the broadcast but reveal the character of the event. Working quickly in pen and watercolor allowed me to capture those fleeting observations before they disappeared into the rhythm of the day. It's a surprisingly demanding environment to draw in—subjects are constantly moving, access changes from moment to moment, and there is rarely time to linger. That challenge is part of what makes each sketch feel so immediate and alive.

The sketches collected throughout the week are more than references for future paintings—they're a record of paying attention. Every page holds a conversation, a gesture, or a passing moment that helped tell the larger story of the Indianapolis 500. Long after the checkered flag has fallen, these field studies continue to remind me that the most memorable parts of an event aren't always the loudest ones.

Field Sketches

  • Finding a Groove, Carb Day '26"

  • "Pit Lane"

  • "First Abel Racing Pit Stop - Race Day"

"Greatest Gas Station in the World"

One sketch I kept coming back to wasn't a race car or a driver—it was the Shell fuel station tucked inside the garage area. I've jokingly titled it "Greatest Gas Station in the World," but there's a lot of truth behind that. At first glance, it looks almost ordinary, like a neighborhood station you'd drive past without a second thought. But here, it's surrounded by some of the fastest race cars on earth, and every pump dispenses racing fuel instead of regular gasoline. It feels like an oasis at the center of organized chaos—a place every team depends on, yet one that's easy to overlook. I love how something so familiar can take on an entirely different meaning simply because of where it exists. Sometimes the most memorable landmarks aren't the famous ones; they're the places that quietly keep everything moving.

Closing Reflection

Returning to the Indianapolis Motor Speedway always feels like more than another event. It's home. Growing up just outside of Indianapolis, this place has been part of my life for as long as I can remember. This year, one small object stayed with me throughout race week: my grandfather's TAG Heuer stopwatch. Years ago, he carried it into these same grandstands, timing laps as the cars thundered past. I kept it in my pocket while I drew, a quiet reminder that this experience stretches across generations. The Speedway may look different today, and my role within it has certainly changed, but that little stopwatch connects the past and the present in a way I never could have imagined. It reminds me that these field studies aren't just about documenting an event—they're also about documenting the places that have quietly shaped who I am as an artist.

Next Entry