Tuesday, January 25, 2011
This drawing isn't really pink, in fact it's a pencil sketch on a fairly large sheet of white watercolor paper which is too large to sit on the bed of my scanner so I did what I could to make it visible.
It's also not really about anything because, if I could write it down or tell it, what would be the point of the lines?
The flu came and went leaving me just a little lighter, or perhaps it's just that the days are noticeably getting longer.
With luck and time the image may turn into a painting but for now it is what it is and I hope you get the idea.
What keeps us alive, what allows us to endure?
I think it is the hope of loving, or being loved.
I heard a fable once about the sun going on a journey
to find its source,
and how the moon wept
without her lover’s warm gaze.
We weep when light does not reach our hearts.
We wither like fields if someone close
does not rain