In the past couple of weeks when I’ve had enough time, I’ve been continuing experiments in layering ink over crayon and scraping back into it, trying to gain more control. Especially I want to have bright, jewell-like colors set against the darkness. Sometimes I wonder if I should just be painting on black velvet.
I’ve had a piece off to the side to work on while I wait for the ink to dry, it’s finally done enough to post.
In the rest of my life I’m learning more about how to speak up as an activist, as so many of my friends feel suddenly called upon to do. There’s a sense of urgency and at the same time unreality that permeates the outer sphere of my awareness, the part that connects to the big world of national and international news.
In the smaller sphere of my local, tangible life, I’m spending much time with good friends belting out songs that speak of hope and of getting through the tough times of the human condition. There’s this stark dissonance between the comfort and relative ease of my little life, and my awareness of so many who are cold, hungry, threatened by war, suffering indignities. I’m one of the very privileged people, and have some resources to spare. So one of my inner critics tells me, this is no time to be drawing flowers and dancers. What good to the world is this practice of mine?
I really don’t know if there’s an answer to that. I tell that critic to get out of my way go join the others in some other room, while I sit over here and work on whatever this silly, useless thing is. It absorbs and satisfies me. A friend tells me that seeing my drawings posted brings her joy. And I think it probably doesn’t harm anyone. Maybe that’s enough for now.
Here are the drawings I’ve posted since my last studio blog entry. The final rehearsals and the shows over the past weekend occupied much of my time, so there are a few quick and sketchy drawings in the middle. Coming out the other side it’s felt good to have more time to spend, though I’m still not satisfied with how my experiments are coming out.