Today the beach was flat and pristine. Receding waves left salt edges - overlapping, entwining and rubbing out each other as they flowed back into the bay. Nothing else, only a scuffed gull print here, a pearly stone there.It all reminded of drawings I made a couple of years ago, where I discovered that it was the spaces in between things, everything that interested me – the shadow, the light, the energy – not any thing itself. Mystery and aura and potential at the edges where we (they) lurk for not belonging.
It's all wrong, this gray of graphite, I mean the color is wrong. But the experience of drawing it is right. What is colored graphite?
