Not what I intended to read next, but what I fell into. Home Ground is a collection of definitions. At the moment, I open to any page read a bit and then skip to another spot. But really, I want to start at the beginning and read all the way through, to be sure I don't miss anything. It makes me think of poetry.
Pieces of my landscape today...
This morning. Unaltered. The first of the sunlight coming through the windows.
Another indoor day. Today I played with some of the techniques for the art class I'm taking. The fairy tale of the month is "Little Red Riding Hood." Maybe this is one of the flowers she picked to take to grandma?
And for Deanna who lives where lilacs won't grow...
Also did a bit of knitting...
I love little flecks of color, how something bright like that little green stripe on the bottom mixed with brown (the greenish-brown below the red stripe) becomes something different.
I've been thinking about the tools we have to communicate with.
Words. I can tell you about my cat.
She was given away. I brought her home.
For a long time she didn't like to be touched. And now she is aggressively affectionate.
She loves Briar and tolerates Lola (the dogs).
Her name is Hazel, as in the tree.
I can share a picture.
One of my favorites. Taken several years ago.
And I can paint a picture (this is still in process):
Last Saturday I was trying to draw pictures of animals and I was frustrated. The drawings weren't looking the way I wanted them to. I asked myself. Why? Why am I doing this?
I decided to focus this year on drawing and painting, on making images because it's fun. As a child, "art" was one of my favorite activities. I doodled and drew when I had the chance. And then it was let go as I became older. As was writing poetry.
Some of this letting go seems natural, we hone our interests. But some of it happens because we become too critical. We get caught in being practical. We need to be experts at what we do. We need to "grow up."
I don't want or need to be great at this. I just want to feel like it's another way that I can communicate. I want someone to look at something that I make and think, that's a cat... And for it to be fun, to find the way for this to be fun.
About two months ago I decided to try something. What if I made a doodle, a drawing, a few marks on paper every night? Would it be something I could maintain? I set myself very easy parameters. Just make a few marks, every night. What would come?
I find that over and over I want to make patterns. Things that could translate to stitch. Things that seem more texture than image.
I've missed a few nights, but mostly I've done something every day. Consistently enough that I feel I can continue. Aiming for a year. And thinking now too, that on any given day I might return to something already done and add to it.
Tonight I added text to this one digitally, but I'll make a few marks inside the sketchbook as well.