Back home in my studio, rich with the memory of singing together to the point that I lose myself into the sound, and lose the sound of my own voice in the tapestry we wove together.
Did I mention that the full moon lit the night the entire weekend, even with occasional cover of clouds. The lake, the surrounding tree-clad hills burnishing to gold and red and brown in the day, webs of pale and dark in the night. As the season changes to cold, I need the reminder to go outside, to breathe.
AND ALSO: Twilight Covening marks the anniversary of my daily drawing practice, which I started during Sarah Rosehill’s Otter Clan 10 years ago.
10 years of daily drawings. When I started, I had no ambition or idea that I would still be doing this now.
All day and evening at Northern Roots, a traditional music festival in Brattleboro VT. Started this drawing while listening to a wonderful harpist, Dominique Dodge.
Pencil drawing made during a performance by a friend, too dark to trust color in the pub! I have no explanation of what it represents, just take it as a song without words.
On my morning mountain walk I paused to listen to a little stream and thought about all the different kinds of music made by moving water
this is a vine where the sound of a cat’s footprints grows
By the way, I was at a performance of Robert Fripp and his Orchestra of Crafty Guitarists last night. It reminded me again about listening to everything as if it were music.
drawn in the semi-dark by the sound board at a show where kids that are peers of my sons were tearing up the stage.
maybe there’s something in here about the joy of watching the next generation find its wings
I don’t really have much to say about this one. It has things I like it it: mushrooms and sunshine and snow and paramecia who might be people and a youngun who might be a muskrat pup.