Not much energy tonight – had to drag myself to my studio and try not to think about the tin of brownies in the fridge. All I could muster were two charcoal and chalk drawings. The one above a moonlit scene, the one below of a deep wood.
The first sketch (above), started off with a scheme in mind – just a landscape. Later as I scratched and wiped out, the moon emerged through the paper clouds.
The image below started with just a lot of random black marks, mostly vertical, some thin, some thick. After I stepped back I saw the potential for a deep woods sketch. A lot of shadow, with the light hitting patches of trunk and forest floor. The path was added towards the end when the image became clearer.
I was reminded of the famous line from Dante’s Inferno: “In the middle of the journey of our life I found myself within a dark woods where the straight way was lost”.
I have been reading Jane Hirchfield’s Ten Windows: How Great Poems Transform the World. This morning I read a section in which she quoted this beautiful poem, which so well describes that familiar Sunday afternoon nostalgia; my wondering: where do all these small moments go, I why is it that so few people seem to notice how they ceaselessly flow out of our lives?