Monday, January 16, 2006

First Draft Drawing: Notes on the willow women...

Willows. Long, stretchy women. Like mirages in the Sahara. Elongated. Giantesses if you met them. The three muses wandering over the desert. Tribespeople. They are the same as the last drawing, only different. There is a blue astral figure, undefined. Who is she? The sun booms out of her belly. The sun unites all three. They are comfortable in their harsh environment. Without clothes, protection, concealment, camoflage. Thin but not near starvation. These are the women that can find the one succulent shrub in a 50 mile radius and suck its roots until they are nourished with fluidity. Drinking dew. And leave it intact, so that later, once again, they can draw moisture from the plant. They read the stars like navigators, the sun like weathermen, and worship equally the sun and moon. They can sense a dust storm hours away. I'm not sure they carry complex mythologies. Or that it's necessary to have a dense theology. Only the land-dwelling ones, where what is familiar is sacred, the sand, the grass, the burning sun, the hardened soles on the feet. Only the sacred covenant with the embodied self and the land. Their strong womanliness the Shekinah of their souls. They watch; they dance; they make love; they have children; they feed everyone; and it's not effort-full, only what's expected and they sing often. There is no voyaristic gaze from millenia of art capturing them, despite their being white. Civilization barely impacts them. Though they know; indeed they do. They would be comfortable in robes on city streets too. They are free women. I don't know where the men are. Perhaps I shall attempt co-ed watercolour drawings after this one, we'll see.

early mapping of colour and form, 10" x 12", india ink, coloured pencil (so far), cotton watercolour paper, 2006

8 comments:

  1. I like the intimations of landscape you have added here. I'm thrilled for you by your news of possible income. It makes sense to me - a coming into your self of sorts. Practicing plethora with your life??!

    I read your singing bowls piece at xanga and found it very moving.

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  2. mb, why I'm posting something not finished may have something to do with procrastination! It's always interesting to compare before & after images. The writing is a trite romantic, but, oh, let it stand never-the-less. Sometimes you get a feel for a story behind the figures.... there's definitely an African savannah here for me, though I'm not sure if that'll emerge or not.

    Thank you on the almost sale; I am moving into a new realm certainly - usually I won't sell anything. Practicing plethora? Oh, yes, let's!!
    (that's let's as in let us)

    I'm honoured that you went over & read Singing Bowls of Horizons- I really do have to upload everything again with an option to a larger size for readability.

    My, I am droning on! (Drawing avoidance perhaps?) :grins:

    *hugs xo

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  3. I love the combination of image and narrative here. Both drew me right in, transported me into Elsewhere.

    Thanks, too, for your comments on Flickr.

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  4. i'm not sure what it is that gets my heart in this, but something... like a warmth, an innocence, maybe even jealousy of their innocence and lightness.

    i love the coloring, it's perfect. it fluels the innocence i'm feeling, i think.

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  5. Brenda, I've found that committing to post something almost every day is a structure that overcomes my writing avoidance - all sorts of in-my-head reasons for that - so I applaud the notion of posting unfinished work. It's all I ever do!

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  6. thankyou, e_journies: don't you find yourself creating some sort of narrative, or story, or some kind weaving when you're working on a piece, a drawing or a photograph? I've always thought that the thoughts of the artist during the long hours spent creating the painting would be most insteresting to overhear...

    ~artist, oh, I hope you like the continuing transformations then, as I work towards completing it... but, then, there's always the photo taken at an earlier stage that can become the "piece" in this day of advanced technology. Thank for dropping by, too, honey. I've missed you~ xo

    mb, you are absolutely right, and I try that, but my daily committment waivers. Sometimes it flows, other times... I am determined to post this drawing to completion, though. The photo I just took of it has shadows in the upper left corner, no time to re-take. Gotta run. Does that happen to you too, with daily posting of first flush, the freshest poems of all?

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  7. Not sure what you're asking. If you mean, does my daily commitment waiver - yes, but that's part of working with the shattering of walls and subsequent discipline I'm trying to develop. If you mean, do my unrevised poems have shadows in the corner with no time to re-take - yes again. There are oodles of things I see I could change in the poems I post. Definitely less than ideal, but the method serves my very personal purpose for now. If you meant something else, I guess I missed it!

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  8. MB, I don't think I had a question. So much as this dialogue. I love hearing you talk about the process of your beautiful poems, which always seem like fresh mountain water, clear and so pure.

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A Pulsing Imagination - Ray Clews' Paintings

A video of some of my late brother Ray's paintings and poems I wrote for them. Direct link: https://youtu.be/V8iZyORoU9E ___