Monday, April 30, 2018

The Poet



The Poet (RBS Collage)



The Poet

Out on the water
I can think, or
rather give up
thinking altogether—

the afternoon hills
bathed in sunlight,
the glistening water
on fire, the scull

itself gliding oh so
lightly as if through air,
bearing me to a place
I seek but cannot see. 


Friday, April 6, 2018

Drawing as Exploration

























Put the point of the pen down
somewhere in the upper left
corner of the paper, and move
your hand, leaving a mark, an angle,
a curve, a line that moves away
and then comes back to connect
with itself. So now there's a shape,
and that shape sets the direction
for the next, which must of necessity
be similar or different, larger or
smaller, closer or farther away.
Now there are two, now three,
now twenty. Along the way questions
arise. How long, for example, before
whatever patterns begun by accident
should by design be broken? How much
of the surface should be inked, how
much left white? How close to the edge?
What about the negative spaces?
Inking is another story, silent, automatic,
eye and hand in motion, mostly
without thought. Music can help
to mark the time, set the rhythm
and the feel. It will take longer
than you think. Often the pen tip
starts to fray, or the ink dries up.
Switch pens. A pen with a big tip
makes the work go faster, but
if your hand strays it's harder
to correct the mistake. Hold
your breath, pay attention, learn
to trust your hand. When
the drawing is done, touch up
the tiny white spots with a fine-
tipped pen, and you're done.
Step back and see what you've got.


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