March 2007 Archives
As I was finishing this sketch, my daughter said, "I just noticed something - two cafe drawings in a row." Different cafe, different time of day, different refreshment, but a moment to pause and look around, each time. (First store-bought iced coffee of the season, too. (Iced coffee at home knows no season...))
One flower from the bunch of Gerbera daisies bought last week has decided to bend down. The cut stem seems no different from the others, so I can't see why it droops, but it does. I thought of pulling it out of the vase, but have not gotten around to that yet. Anyway, I tell myself that it hasn't wilted completely. The color is still there - it still participates in the effect of the bouquet as a whole. I guess I can use it as an occasion for thinking about grace in moments of change or reversal?
These willow twigs came with some other flowers years ago, and I keep cycling them through different arrangements in different places - sometimes alone, sometimes with fresh flowers, sometimes with other dried stems. I love the way they add texture and drama to a vase and I get a kick out of how well they have held up over time.
My landscape painting for the month of March is now posted over on the Curbly site.
Light fixture in the living room ceiling. We never turn it on. The switch is hidden behind a painting, because the painting needed to go on that wall, and I didn't like using the light anyway. I don't know why it has taken me two-and-a-half years to sketch this, when I sit in the living room almost every night and think, "What shall I draw?" Sometimes I don't see what's right in front of me...
Eight hundred days later, and I am still looking at my hand.
Without a daily rhythm and the daily practice I would not have learned what I have in eight hundred days. Eight hundred days from now I don't know what my life will be like, but I imagine I will still be drawing, and sharing mistakes and discoveries and small bits of my life here every day. Thank you. My way of seeing has changed. My community has grown. I'm profoundly grateful.
Bought to celebrate March, and as incentive for (or distraction from) picking up the living room. Unseasonably cold with snow flurries tonight. Today was Exelauno Day, and for those of you who observe it, I hope it was a happy one. We took the theme a little farther than necessary, with one and a half trips to the airport at the crack of dawn. (Conversation halfway there. Front seat: Do you have your bag? Back seat: Uh, no...) Back home to get it, but made the flight in time, and older son is now in Florida for a few days with grandparents.
Went out to try to see the eclipse tonight. We drove around the city, talking and listening to the radio, and thinking about unobstructed eastern views. Homewood Cemetery was locked up, but across the street and up the hill, the Smithfield East End Cemetery was un-gated. Some conversation from the back seat about zombies and the full moon in a cemetery. The front seat pointed out that an eclipsed moon should not be counted as full... and we found a good spot on the winding drive. Heavy cloud cover meant that we only caught a brief glimpse, and it was cold enough that we decided to head home after ten or fifteen minutes. By the time we were able to see anything, the totality had passed, so our glimpse was mostly the edge of the reappearing bright moon. However, our older son arrived home for spring break tonight and was in the plane during the eclipse - so he saw it well. Very dark orange - almost not visible, he said.