This is a charcoal sketch I made a few days ago. It was supposed to be a foundation for a pastel painting which is shown below. But as often happens, the sketch turned out to have more soul than the more finished painting. Something about black and white and twilight.
As all of us probably do, I sometimes wonder about the use of keeping a blog. William Stafford must have thought about this also:
Keeping a Journal At night it was easy for me with my little candle to sit late recording what happened that day. Sometimes rain breathing in from the dark would begin softly across the roof and then drum wildly for attention. The candle flame would hunger after each wafting of air. My pen inscribed thin shadows that leaned forward and hurried their lines along the wall. More important than what was recorded, these evenings deepened my life: they framed every event or thought and placed it with care by the others. As time went on, that scribbled wall—even if it stayed blank—became where everything recognized itself and passed into meaning. Stafford, William. Ask Me: 100 Essential Poems of William Stafford Graywolf Press. Kindle Edition.
Thanks for stopping by!