I felt stymied by the blank paper. Made a couple of lines with my pencil, and this is what happened. One of the chorus of critics, perhaps? Someone with big opinions but no hands to make things happen?
The blank paper facing my lack of inspiration. How to descend into the dream that lets me pull images out? Today, it was the cool blues from yesterday’s page that gave me entry. I didn’t have the mental strength to leave it abstract today, and the red fishes wanted to swim in the inky murk..