I’ve joined a public group on Facebook, A drawing A Day. This morning Mark Andres chose my sketch to update the group photo. Yesterday I took a walk along the water in Tiburon, California. My friend and I parked our cars near Blackie’s Pasture. For 28 years a swaybacked horse named Blackie stood in the same place near the road that goes into Tiburon and Belvedere. We all knew Blackie. Our children grew up seeing Blackie standing in the same spot. After he died, the corner grassy field looked like a very lonely place. Then, one day another horse arrived. Anthony Connell created a life size bronze statue of Blackie, so now the spot is filled with joy again. I said goodbye to my friend, got into my car and sat, looking out the window. Reaching for my sketchbook I drew the dogs circling the huge horse, running, barking and sniffing. Good! I have my drawing for one day.
Hunting for the right drawing tool I pick up a stick. Will one end of the stick draw a fine line? Will the other end make a softer line and shape? Dipping the stick into a container of India ink I look and start to draw. Eye, to hand, to paper, I make marks. I draw the shape of my face, feeling tone of my head, the texture of my hair, gesture of my turned head. I draw space, my hair touching the edge of the paper or the two dimensional picture plane. My head is turned; my hair goes back into three dimensional space. I draw until my sketch is done. Awareness of my surroundings clicks back into place. I return to everybody’s world.
I found this little woodpecker outside the bedroom window. He didn’t see the glass. Carefully picking him up I stroked his tiny body, then lay him on a napkin. For a couple of days I’d come by, say hello and lovingly sketch him. I gave him back to nature by placing him under one of the tall pine trees down by the the creek.
We stopped on the way for In-N-Out Burgers
Fries and orders of strawberry milkshakes
Manmade shapes turned into nature’s biomorphic forms
As we climbed to a little under 7,000 feet
We baked french bread at this elevation
And didn’t make adjustments to the recipe
Straightening our limbs we step out of the car
First, just quickly go look at the pond!
Oh, look at the quivering yellow leaves on the Aspen tree!
Down by the creek’s edge, I look up
Past cottonwood trees at the water’s edge
I see a little fir Christmas tree tucked in
Between the tall green Jeffrey pines.