Dylan Thomas, Emily Dickinson, The Black Keys, pencil and pen, sketchbook, pretty ladies, boys and ice cream - all my friends today as I tried to soothe myself after visiting my father this afternoon in the hospital. And surprisingly, I was able to make a drawing, a good one. What a sweet, small gift! Maybe my hands remember how after all. I've been so critical and discouraging of those hands. When they don't perform, I get angry - even though I know I haven't exercised my drawing muscles in ages. It's certainly a skill that must be used and used and used, in order to maintain and hopefully, improve drawing skill.
I know this blog has fallen by the way side, but I'm not feeling guilty over it. It serves its purpose when need be. And hey, who reads this stuff anyway?
I do!
ReplyDeleteAs a person who cannot draw at all (I have many skills. Images in pen, pencil, or pastel are not among them.) I have nothing but awe for those who can draw. <3
~Sarah