Drawings

Thought I would show some drawings.
I'm organizing my iphoto on my MAC so I have good documentation of everything. I'm excited as its all coming together nicely. I'm excited about using this forum, the blog, as a platform for my voice. It's perfect for my type of personality.

It's important to me to be honest as I can here. It's an experiment to a certain degree. I can express myself how I choose here. I must still be aware of a potential audience but I can't let that get in the way. It's like having an ongoing show and eventually there would be a lot of content.

I have a need to express to the public my interpretation of the world. It's my job. I take it seriously. It makes me feel a part of society. A contributing factor. I like my seclusion but we are still social animals. A connection is found.

I am not going to send my work into a gallery. I am not putting that process down. I just want to find another way.

I want to show outside in the trees. I want an alternative space. Throw in a little performance. I want a spontaneous place. A place where passers by might stop for a second. Try to comprehend the unusual site. See the humour, the beauty. The reflection.

Sweet Spot

I hesitate to say I am struggling. I hesitate to come here after some time and whine. I am sketching, which is good but it means I am not painting. 

Not necessarily bad, but I am much happier when I am in the middle of a painting than when I am drawing. 

Painting seems more important. And I guess it is. Maybe I am happier because it feels more like a means to an end. Drawing is continuous perhaps. Income can come from painting easier than drawing. My drawings are more personal? No not really. 

I am more confident and there are less decisions to be made when drawing.  I want to stop saying I am not painting when I am not painting. I do a lot of things, and sometimes they are all going, and sometimes only a few, and sometimes none. Mostly I stay away from none. Drawing is the ember I carry from rainstorms in the forest. It all comes down to scratching.

And I love painting and I miss it. Such a silly notion given its proximity. Ah but I am my own worst enemy as they say. That said this morning I went on about how my drawings are much better than my paintings.  Destiny says its the easy way for me. To go off in a corner and draw. 

Focus. Let the scratching begin. The pen, and lately the pencil, are the quick easy route to settling me down. I will admit.

I scratch away with sharp lead, and soon the paper will open up, and I will be inside.  

Inside, where the minute becomes orchestral.

Every perception sharply poised

So like a fisher I wait. 

Like the Blue Heron... still... like a rock.