Lorna's clothesline

I love a visual that can tell a story in just a dozen lines.

Distorting up and down

Everybody who's seen this turns it 180 degrees. I don't get it ...

Past is present

There's something homey about my same old drawing tools: china marker, paraffin, brass rubbing sticks, ink pen. I keep going back there, even as I move forward with color and collage. Like visiting Mom.

Red

I hardly know what to say about this, except that it's color like I've never used before. The old woman with the crown is an aerial view of a body of water turned on end, a happy find.

Lorna's tree

This hawthorn tree lives in my friend Lorna's back yard in Ballyvaughan, County Clare. Some of them are fairy trees, and the Irish have been known to route highways around them rather than cut them down (bad juju). This one leans away from the wind and often sparkles with raindrops. I wish I was there now, looking out the kitchen window, drawing fast as the light fades. 

The Weight

Venice Biennale 2001: I've been thinking about a series of drawings (his studio wall drawings?) Keith Tyson exhibited in the Padiglione Italia ... one was a black monolith hanging from the top of the paper, almost crushing, certainly controlling/condensing everything beneath it. I'm still trying that on here and there.

Set the stage

What it's like when someone else is pulling the strings, making up my story...