When the last bolt of sunshine hits the mountain…

The other night while I was climbing around under my bed. I found an old cassette tape and against my better judgment I listened to the song that was going through her head, while she tossed and turned and lay awake in bed. The next day we said our goodbyes.
I am halfway through my 6th plywood raptor in flight drawing. Adding clear coats to the others to keep them safe from the elements and protect the drawings from when I inevitably drop them all somewhere foolish. If I was a bank robber my nickname would be “Clown-Shoes”
I forgot to write the words down when I woke up so they became forgotten.
His always seem to work for me though.
“And there’s nothing left to do but count the years
When the strings of my heart start to sever
And stones fall from my eyes instead of tears” -Robert Hunter

Warbler reprise.

Trying out a paper thin wood veneer that has an adhesive backing. Supplied to me from my local art supply store to try out.  I adhered it to a piece of cold press art board. Gave it the warbler go, and I enjoy the results. It put up with the eraser plenty well. I’m a big fan of cherry lumber’s color and grain.



Forgot to look at the sky…

I wish I could take you to where I was standing. The dirt under my shoes where I stood. Head tilted back. staring up at an open sky watching a single hawk fly.

Imaginations turned it into more, as imaginations will do.

Feathers are brushstrokes on the sky and I always forget to look at it.

What was the color?

I liken it to my consistent failure at remembering names of people I’ve just met.

“Althea? My name is Ben, It’s very nice to meet you…”

Finishing a page with the radio playing.

9pm and there is a record playing in the corner. The dust is audible on the speakers, like sunshine through a dirt stained-glass. I’m halfway through the watercolor on this particular page. I got thirsty so brushes went down. Riding my bicycle to the store for a backpack full of Orange Peach Mango juice. A Barn Owl screeched at me from its perch in the palm. Heard but not seen.

The store was busy, I got my juice and left. The sound of the owl still bouncing around in my head.

The story ends with this page here before you.

Still dust through the speakers though.