Indeed I have not posted in a while.  I'm in the final frenzy of unpacking, having moved late last March and then having had to wait/wait/wait for a post-move broken bone to heal.  Now I'm crazed to be done.  The end is in sight!  Once I'm finished, I will actually get to put pictures on my walls.  I miss my pictures very much.

No art at all is going on while I'm in this phase.  But today I attended a free 1-hour  "Creative Calm Online Circle" by my buddy Sadelle Wiltshire (well done, Sadelle!) and she led us through this meditative "continuous line exercise."  The above is the wonky but fun result.  Continuous line drawing is exactly what it sounds like:  you never lift your pen off the page; you just meander along with pen on paper and see where the line takes you.  It's not Zentangle®.  It's not supposed to "look like" anything...just see where the pen goes.  It's a very old art "warm-up" technique.  Fun and calming.  I did a second one in about three minutes, below:

I welcomed any chance to do something calming today, as yesterday a neighbor slipped and fell on black ice near my house and cracked his head (he's fine--no concussion or real damage).  He spent hours in the ER and it must have been scary.  It was scary just to hear about it.  I'm glad he's ok.

Then this morning I discovered my credit card had fraudulent charges on it, and had to cancel that.  Immediately after that unpleasantness, I tuned into the online Creative Calm Circle; it was just what I needed.

Need some relaxation? 

• Grab a pencil or pen and some scrap paper.  You won't be copying or trying to draw anything; this is just random movement.
  
• Put your pen on the paper and draw any simple random shape (maybe a spiral or petal or circle or square or triangle shape...anything simple).  Do not lift the pen from the page.
  
• Rather, keep it moving slowly; remember to breathe; allow the pen to go where it wants--even if you cross over the previous marks you've made--and see what happens. 
  
• KEEP BREATHING and just move the pen slowly.  Let the pen go anywhere it wants on the page.
  
• Stop when you feel like stopping.  (Try for at least 2 full minutes, though, and feel free to go longer.)
  
• Don't expect great art (you don't see great art here, do ya?) but do expect relaxation.  The result doesn't matter--you can throw it away.  The process is what helps dissipate tension.
  

Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh...doesn't that feel better?

By which I mean to say, this is simply a sketchy practice piece for a free-form, unplanned knot. 

I have "knot" been practicing. 

Although my holidays were quiet-by-design, my last two weeks have been non-stop guests.  Wonderful guests and I was thrilled to have them. 
But I haven't had the headspace to draw, tangle, or write and am feeling rusty.  Looking forward to starting up again.

                                                  Ahhhh!  BOOKBINDING Again:

I did manage to sneak away for one day, last Sunday, in order to take a beginning bookbinder class with Peter Cangialosi.  He's an excellent teacher and I completely enjoyed myself.  Even more impressive:  every student (5 of us) left with a handmade bound book.  Here's mine:

This is a very small book, but it is a book.  I am delighted. 

January is apparently "bookbinding" time someplace in my mind.  Last year on MLK weekend I did (and blogged about) a prior workshop on bookbinding with Nancy Shepherd in Vermont.  We took the whole weekend and began by learning to make  paper for the covers; then we used a more sophisticated open binding than the one I learned last Sunday.

However, the day after that 2017 workshop with Nancy I formally "closed" on (legally bought) my new house.  ALL the info I had acquired from her flew right out of my head as I entered the whirlwind of finalizing the sale, packing up my apartment of 40 years, and relocating. 

What was special about Sunday's workshop was that it was one day and much simpler...but it jump-started my memories of a year ago and I began to recall what I had learned in the more complex 2017 workshop with Nancy.  I have progressed from not being able to retrieve anything I learned from her, to remembering at least 90% of it, and I am confident that I can recover the rest.  Hurrah!  Thank you, Peter.

In Peter's beginner's workshop, everyone finished wonderful books.  Many were prettier than mine.  He kept things super-simple and was endlessly patient with our million questions.

Here is a slideshow of all five completed books.  I can't wait to try my hand at this again.  I look forward to being able to make my own sketchbooks.

Two additional views of my book.  You can see the simple exposed smyth stitch binding in the photo to the left, and in view below you can see how flat it lies when open.  If I use better quality paper for my next book, it would be perfect for sketching.

Uh-oh, there may be yet another obsession coming on...

Yes, I did it.  I bought a hand drill.  No big deal, you say?  Then you don't know me well.  I'm a disaster with hand tools.   If you live anywhere in the northeastern United States, it might be time to consider moving away.  You don't want to be around when I turn this thing on.

YouTube, here I come.  I'm determined to learn how to use this.

More material that fits neatly into the "no-fail, no-learn" category:  The Zentangle® folks put out a Project Pack recently that included lots of new goodies to try.  New white Gellyroll pens from Sakura.  New black apprentice tiles, new black triangular tiles (called 3-Zs).  Plus a new tangle and some experimental techniques.   And some very fine videos.

Along with everyone else, I've been experimenting.  Here are a couple of initial results.

More to come from that Project Pack.

Last but not least today.  I am pretty chuffed about this one.  It has been eluding me for well over a week.  I think I tried it a good 4 times and couldn't figure it out (and it looks soooooo simple!), but I kept looking at it and thinking about it.  Today I decided to tackle it again--on crappy copy paper, but I was thinking there was a good possibility I'd fail again.

But no.  I succeeded!  I really failed my way to success with this one. 

Now, of course, I wish I had used better paper.  But succeeding came as a total surprise!

Just to make sure I got it, I tried it again on a tiny scale a couple of hours later--and once again, failed.  But I know I *am* getting it and will continue to practice until I feel I've got a good handle on this.  If I was able to do it once, I know I can do it again.

Two very quick drafts.  I'm continuing to practice drawing Celtic Knots.  These were done on incredibly cheap blue scratch paper.  This first one I actually did not intend to ink--I thought I would do a quick pencil draft (and did), but then decided to spend the time inking it.  This was freehand and done in a rush.

In the draft below, I used a technique from a YouTube video to create a classic border.  Since this was my first attempt, I used the same super-cheap blue scratch paper.  This one took longer only because it had so many knots, but I still thought I would leave it just as pencil practice.  And just as in the other case, I decided to take the time to ink it in.  There's something so irresistible about "correcting" the sloppy pencil lines.  Once again, this was drafted very fast.

While this is far-from-perfect (see the spots of white where I've corrected some "blobby" lines, not to mention the different sizes of lines), I notice that the eye tends to smooth things out and make it look better than it actually is.  That's ok with me!

In the spirit of "Progress, Not Perfection," I am viewing sloppy progress as being better than no progress at all.

Here is my third "practice knot," done quickly in one of my journals.  The lines are wonky but given how quickly I did it I'm pleased.  I copied this from a handout I got from my friend (and teacher of drawing knots) Sadelle Witshire.  The fact that it's a direct copy may not sound like much, but it's the first time I actually figured out (from looking at a finished knot) what the actual steps for drawing should be.  That felt like a solid accomplishment!

I've been busy at home, continuing to unpack and sort things out.  I treated the guest room wall to a new hand-painted mirror from the Sawmill River Arts Gallery, a wonderful artist owned spot.

And in sorting some things out in the basement, I located a long-lost, large quantity of linen  for rug hooking--many, many yards.  I'd bought a whole roll of this with a friend and we split the roll.  Probably at least five years ago. 

And then, oddly, we each proceeded to lose the linen.  It disappeared in each of our houses, and no matter how hard we searched, we couldn't find it.  How do you lose a huge amount of linen?  But we did, and eventually we began to wonder if the idea that we had ever bought it and split the purchase was some form of folie a deux. 

However, I found mine last week.  We have proof!  And better yet, I can now use it.  Hurrah! 

And finally, I'm happy to be reading this:  Reckless Daughter, a Joni Mitchell biography, a loan from our excellent library that I've been waiting for.

A pretty good few days here.

You know, I'm not much of a fan of drawing hearts. I like seeing them when others draw them, but somehow I am just not attracted to doing it myself.

But in trying to learn to draw knots, I was asked to do just that--draw a simple heart border and convert it to Celtic interlaced knots. And when I finished, I was most definitely thinking about hearts--our globally connected hearts--and how much pain the world is in today. The focus required to draw interconnecting bands on knots reminds me of how we forget every day that we are dependent on each other to survive, and dependent on each other's love and kindness. We forget and forget and forget.

​I want to remember.

There was another school shooting in the US today. My heart breaks, and continues to break, because of these repetitive, mindless, violent, deadly shootings, the innocent victims, and their families.

It felt very right to be drawing hearts, and connecting them.

Here's what I ended up with:

Certainly the calligraphy isn't great because this is just a practice draft, but I am happy with the final result.

Here was where I began (Step One in pencil), and below that, here's what it looked like inked in (Step Two).:

I've been taking a fabulous SkillShare Course on Celtic Knots offered by Sadelle Wiltshire, of whom I am a fangirl.  She makes wonderful art  you can see on her webpages, HERE or HERE. 

Interlaced.  Interconnected.  We are.  We must be.  When will we learn to remember?

"Having a soft heart in a cruel world is courage, not weakness." 
--Katherine Henson

Last week of the "Sketching and Watercolor" Course.  It has been hard to keep up, although I can't exactly say why.  Probably the fear of failure and fear of the blank page.  Along with a healthy dose of "comparanoia," the paralyzing factor that happens when everyone's asked to post their pictures online--it's just too easy to start comparing, and often belittling one's own efforts.

So here's this final assignment, starting with the original object, a coffee pot.

I was looking at the pot from a slightly different angle than the photograph.  I did a preliminary pencil sketch, inked it with waterproof ink, and then erased the pencil.  After which, practically holding my breath, I picked up my waterbrush...

 
It ain't perfect, but I like it.  Although I still feel verklempt about my progress with watercolor, I'm ok with this result.  I may have whined at producing the weekly assignments, but it kept me working.  And I know that when I'm working--practicing--some improvement will eventually happen. 

I hope to keep working on my own.  And yet...

Life does have a way of distracting us.  Waiting in the wings and calling my name are (in no particular order):

• good friends
• unpacking all the art supplies, finally
• learning more about drawing celtic knots
• Zentangle®
• Knitted Knockers
• reading
• meditation--always
• walking and other exercise
• rug hooking, designing, dyeing wool
• finding a new rug hooking group, or creating one
  

"It is not enough to be busy.  So are the ants.  The question is:  What are we busy about?"
--Henry David Thoreau

I indulged myself today and spent a lot of the day drawing. 

Now, I should know that feeling smug is never a good sign.  We all know that, right? 

But oh my, it's so easy to forget.  I have been working on drawing knots, because I like the focus they require and the meditative state they produce, much like the Zentangle® process.  I had tried some basic exercises and did well, so I was feeling like, "Hey--piece of cake.  I got this!  No sweat."

Um, no.  I didn't. 

My first attempt today was a total debacle.  I've titled it, "Three Wrongs Do Not Make a Right."  Here it is.  See the bottom knot.  The top one was so simple that it came out fine, but the moment I tried something even slightly complicated...

Confused--oh yes, I sure was.  And totally not in a meditative space.  I couldn't understand how I'd gone so wrong. 

It was clearly time to go to yoga class, so I did.  Ran some errands.  Came back again and was determined to re-do it and have it work. 

A couple of hours later (along with one additional complete meltdown, during which I was convinced I'd screwed up again), I'd produced this.  This might just qualify as my first knot! 

I was thrilled, but I sure hope this gets easier.  At the meltdown point, when I was convinced that I'd gotten it all wrong again, I considered giving up entirely.  But after a short walk, I came back and checked it and suddenly it looked fine.  ??!!  I have a lot to learn here, that's for sure.

As a celebration, I did a 5-minute sketch of my DunkinDonuts cup.  Last night I finally found a water-soluble pen and so I did this sketch in less than 5 minutes and then used my waterbrush to spread some of the ink.  Total time spent on this was about 7 minutes.  Fun.  Hardly a masterpiece but I do feel like I'm keeping my hand in again with drawing.

We learn the rope of life by untying its knots.
--Jean Toomer

Here is the finish to yesterday's project:

Next came the homework for the sketching & watercolor course:  painting a shoe.  I'd done the prelminary sketching a few days ago (the November 4th post) and decided to re-draw and paint it from another angle.  Here's the painting.

The drawing went fine, but as usual the painting didn't go well.  The sole (the black thing under the shoe) did not end up looking like a sole.  The real sandals are all-gray with a hint of gold where the light hits them.  I feel "meh" about this painting. 

Once the course is over (just another week) I'll be taking a more casual approach to learning watercolor.  Something doesn't quite feel right for me with this course.  She's a wonderful artist and teacher (I love her stuff), but perhaps she's beyond me at the moment.  Still, I'm glad I did it.  She's been great about providing feedback to every single one of a very large number of participants.

On the upside:  I'm continuing to make progress on the kitchen and am actually finished.  Until I live with it for a few weeks and begin to get a sense of where I would be better off moving things.  That needs time, but everything's in an initial place for now.  No more boxes!  I cannot believe what a difference unpacking this room has made to me.  I suddenly feel more optimistic and have a lot more mental space.  Everything feels better.  This is the half of the kitchen that has all the supplies for dyeing wool in one place:

Clearly I'll need a quote to put on the page I just worked on today (below).  Nothing has come to me yet.  It's just begging for a quote, though.  I don't think the page is finished, either.  This is inspired by my new journal cover (see yesterday's post).  I'm "knot good" at knots, but I am beginning to become interested in them.

A friend in Thailand who knows I make rugs sent me this utterly hilarious (but scary) link to a Black Hole Rug.  I laughed out loud when I saw it...not that I'd want one!  Check it out.

I finished a long-cherished old journal last night and started a new one today.  I'm consciously trying to incorporate a lot of drawing into my journals, and it was hard to say goodbye to the old one as it's chock full of drawings.

But then I looked at the cover for my new journal and somehow I ended up doing this little drawing as an opener for it.

Inspiration posted below.  Everyone has to start somewhere.  Right?

Whoa.

More wonky drawing today.  This week's assignment is on shoes.  Every shoe I own is black, except for these sandals, so I did a preliminary drawing with one of them.

Everything I draw, no matter how bad it might be, does teach me something about drawing.  I will persist!

By the end of the day I needed some stress-reduction so turned to tangling.  I had two tangles I'd been wanting to try for quite some time, so I combined them onto one tile.  Here is the tile with the linework but no shading, using the tangles Clob and Ving:

And here you have it below, with shading added:

Ahhhhhh.  Tangling always works.  I'm calmer after drawing simple lines.

 As I've mentioned in previous posts, I've been in intensive learning mode--taking a course on sketching and watercolor.  I've been failing regularly in my attempts.  And I'm also learning a lot.  You can see previous entries on this experience HERE (the start of the series), HERE (scroll down to the bottom to see that one),  HERE, and HERE.

It seems I can only do one thing at a time, though, so no tangling has been happening.  I look forward to getting back to that.  I am able to knit in the evenings, so I've been making Knitted Knockers  (soft knitted prostheses for breast cancer survivors) and will soon have about 60 of them to ship out for distribution.  Today I went to the local yarn shop and picked up these yarns for future Knockers:  [If you knit, I hope you will seriously consider making Knockers for women who need them post surgery.]

I have also been unpacking and the kitchen is nearly ready.  Given that I do not know how to cook, how ready does it need to be?  Well, once I get back to rug hooking, it needs to be ready for me to dye yarn and wool.  Today I moved my "dye chest" into the kitchen, and more equipment will come.  I'm very encouraged about this.

Here are my most recent drawings and watercolors.  I hesitate to even term these "watercolors" as I'm truly struggling with the waterbrush and trying to resist going back to regular brushes.

Let me begin with a photo of the actual roses I was trying to capture, in their vase.  Both roses were well-past their prime and beginning to die by the time I finally got to start drawing them.

Here is my teacher's comment on this painting--and I agree with it:

"In this version, the vase became the focal point, rather than the rose. Another really lovely drawing and color, but I think what is missing is the whites of the page and the lights on the flower.  Well done!"

The final compliment was kind of her, but the analysis about the vase becoming the focal point is exactly right.

Before I saw her comment, though, I had decided to go back and try to add to this with another layer of color, to better shade it...

The teacher hasn't commented on this drawing yet.

I was so frustrated working on it.  Once again I had the sense that the paint got away from me despite my best efforts.

And yet...it's overworked, but I think it's also stronger.

More importantly, every time I try this, and fail in epic fashion as I have so far, I do learn something.

In fact, I am chronicling this in public all because I so strongly believe that we often learn best by failing.  Certainly we can choose to resist learning from failures, but usually the lessons are so "loud and clear," they can lead to real success if we can heed them.

Or so I hope!  Ha.

Which brings me to one of my all-time favorite quotes:
"Success consists of going from failure to failure, without lost of enthusiasm."
--Winston Churchill

I've gotten back into continuous line drawing, which results in curious, wonky images and is enormous fun to do.  It's also very easy to slip into the zone (meditate) while doing it, as it calls for careful attention to the object being drawn--while never lifting your pen from the page. 

This wonky Buddha was drawn from a clay wall decoration.  I am enjoying the way his uma (the dot on the his forehead) has migrated over to one side.  I never know how these drawings will turn out; all of this was done without ever lifting my pen, as one very long line, retracing along itself when I needed to move to another area.  Try it yourself--it's great fun and the results are always surprising and often humorous.  Somewhat like meditation.

Some simple warm-ups and practices from the online course I'm taking.  I have a long way to go but I'm having fun and quite like a few of these. 

And finally, because I can't resist:  we are seeing some autumnal colors arriving very late in the season.  Here is the tiny tree out my front window.  It was green as recently as 48 hours ago, and then suddenly...

This is a photo of a spirit rock.  No, it doesn't refer to the remarkable meditation center in California.  But it certainly it relates to meditation.  A dear friend made it, covering the tiny stone with her hand-netting and adding those tiny beads   She gave it to me as a housewarming gift.  Both of us know that doing this kind of work is highly meditative--it's why I'm so drawn to art at this point in my life, along with a daily meditation practice. 

Stones have always held a lot of symbolism for me, especially river rocks with their smooth round shapes and heft.  They are symbols of wholeness, endurance, and comfort. 

I will enjoy this sweet gift for a long time.  It is so lovely to connect with much-valued old friends.

"A rugged stone grows smooth from hand to hand."
--George Herbert

"Our lives are unique stones in the mosaic of human experience--priceless and irreplaceable."
--Henri J.M. Nouwen

Meanwhile, I cannot decide if I'm enjoying the "sketching and watercolor" course or not.  I'm a bit puzzled by why I'm having so much trouble with the watercolor and specifically with the brush (watercolor brush).  If it weren't the 2nd brush I've tried--with similar issues--I'd say the brush is leaking.  Too much water swishing around, and you can see it's leaking outside the bounds of the apple (yes, apple...not a tomato) above.  I could go on and on, but I won't.  Let's just say I haven't had this experience before, not that I've had much experience at all.  I'll keep going with this and see what happens.  It's tough not to just grab my colored pencils, though.

In watercolor, if you are not in trouble, then you're in trouble.
--Selma Blackburn

In watercolour, particularly, it's almost always better to chuck than fix.
--Joe Joseph P. Blodgett

...Really?  Guess I'll find out.

This is my first try at an assignment to sketch and paint some fruit for Jane LaFazio's course.  I think it's going to be a lot of fun. 

Hey, I can only get better, right? 

Right? 

That just has to be true.  This is not my best work, to put it mildly.  Ha.  i assume I'll improve with practice.

After all, Oscar Wilde said:  "Bad art is better than no art at all."  Thank you, Oscar.

Trying to arrange for some work to be done in my kitchen, I had given a local contractor nine dates to choose from.  He chose today, the last date I gave him, saying he'd be here "after lunch."  I didn't have much hope, I will admit, as I've had a bad experience with him in the past.  Using him was not my choice--he's the contractor the company uses for its installations.

Of course, it's now 7 pm and despite my calling him around 3 pm (voicemail), he didn't show up and hasn't contacted me.

Good thing I am reading the following book, which I am thoroughly enjoying:

I am loving this book--although not sure I agree with all of it, but it is a lot to take in.  It's very well written and funny.  And yet...I wish he had not used the word "true," in the title, which smacks of dogmatism to me.  Probably a reflection of my upbringing, but it makes me uneasy.

Anyway, it was no coincidence that I was reading this today.

i heard the sound of crickets last evening for the first time since last year. 

to be more specific, i heard one lone cricket, and then about a block or so later, a second lone cricket.  there is something about their sound that makes me so happy.

today i experimented with drawing a cricket (thus, the "hope" part of the title, as it was only the second day since i broke my wrist (mid-june) that i began to feel i was getting better.  more about that later...

here is the very silly result--the first sketch is a cartoon cricket (from the jiminy cricket species), and the second one only a tad more realistic.  both were done from youtube videos that i found when i typed in "how to draw a cricket."

below is my contribution to IAST 209 (the "it's a string thing" challenge).  i was so happy to feel well enough to try this tonight.  this makes two days of less swelling and pain,  i'm almost afraid to feel hopeful, but i'm going with it tonight!

my last post was about in-somnia, but last night before bed i did a pre-somnia tangle and, for the first time, didn't wake up in the middle of the night.

i'd been wanting to try the tangle "kandysnake," which was new to me.  once i put that one on the tile, it cried out to be joined by "footlites," (one of my favorite tangles) and then i connected them with "beadlines."

a page from my journal.  i still have to wear the splint at least 80% time, but last week it was 100%.  it's still incredibly painful but it's less painful than last week when i was beside-myself-uncomfortable.

i think things are heading in the right direction, even though it could still be weeks before i am fully functional again.  two months ago today was the break.

this is my 3rd cast, technically a splint with velcro straps that i can remove to shower, etc.

i was very excited to get it.  feels like--and is--progress, but for some reason, my hand and wrist look far worse than they did in cast #2. both are very swollen.  see the picture in my last post to compare.

i'm told this is typical at this stage but i feel like i'm traveling around with a Frankenstein Hand.  i'm doing hand exercises several times a day and now, for the first time since the break, am in real pain.  hence, no Zentangle® or blogging.  but i did manage to draw this. 

and yes, it actually looks that way.  it doesn't resemble my other hand at all.

"nevertheless, she persisted." 

i am persisting.  i'm determined to get my hand back.

Even just looking at that tile encourages me to take a deep breath and relax. 


This next one is busier but was equally fun to create.

This morning I stumbled across an excellent post on meditation and people's misconceptions about it.  It's quite short and is by Arnie Kozak, a guest blogger on the wonderful Susan Cain's site; you can read it here.  He really touches on the most common assumption about meditation--that it's about "stopping the mind."  It isn't.

But drawing frequently does stop my mind and pulls me into total absorption on the one line that I am drawing in this moment.  Thus, meditation and drawing serve the same purpose in different ways for me.

"Art enables us to find ourselves and lose ourselves at the same time."
--Thomas Merton

My first title for this post was going to be "Miserable Selfies."  Because so many selfie-sketches (as opposed to selfie-photos, where everyone is consciously smiling) make the artist look grim.  But the fact is, I am so far from miserable it's funny.  I'm actually incredibly happy.

Oh yeah?  Then why do I look so miserable?

Such a good question...I look at a lot of sketching and visual journal websites and I often notice how totally grumpy everyone looks in their hand-drawn selfies.  People who don't draw often see these and complain, "But you look so unhappy!  I never see you looking that way."

No, actually, what one usually sees in selfie-sketches is a face devoid of any type of expression at all, and that often makes the artist look entirely miserable--because we just aren't used to seeing others with no expression.  Think about taking the subway; you often see expressionless people there, and they can look quite miserable (they might be, on a crowded subway), but in fact, we have no idea about their interior states.

In fact, I was in a state of delight drawing this.  Not that you can tell!  But it has been months, perhaps over a year, since I've spent more than a minute drawing anything representational.  This hardly qualifies as a great piece of art; I'm too out of practice and I don't pretend to be a great artist even when I have been practicing.  I know I have a lot to learn.  I did this on a post-it with a ballpoint pen, in about 5 minutes.  When I finished, I looked at it and felt GREAT.  It was so much fun to do!  Even if it closely resembles a mug shot. 

And it does resemble a mug shot--it appears someone has just slugged me in the jaw and knocked my mouth off-center so that it has settled under one nostril rather than being balanced between the two.  (I hope that isn't true in real life)  And what happened to the nose, which is also migrating to one side of my face and looks vastly white?

Perhaps the cubists were onto something, when you look at that face.  Ha.

I DON'T CARE.  The point is, I did it.  I drew something and I had so much fun doing it.  It felt great.

Practice at selfies does allow one to eventually add expression to the face.  (Check out Rembrandt's selfies or Frida Kahlo's selfies to see masters at work.)  But you know?...this actually WAS my expression while I was drawing, because I was totally in the present moment, totally focused, totally absorbed, and not thinking of anything else.

So I may look miserable, but I am happy, happy, happy with my tiny drawing.  I feel more practice sessions hurtling in my direction.

The daily small painting, a small resource and time commitment, is an exercise in absolute focus for that time period. It's like a meditation, really.
- Gaye Adams

Long ago and far away...or so it seems...I spent an entire day drawing.  Ahhhhhhhh...

In reality, it was recently and not that far away.  But I have traveled such a distance interior-ly between then and now. 

What I am referring to:  I had a chance to sit and tangle for an entire day a couple of weeks ago, and experienced all the benefits:  the inner silence, the lovely calm focus, the lack of worry about outcome, and the great sense of peace and timelessness. 

All these things can also come from meditation, although since meditation (vipassana) invites us to turn towards and become aware of whatever is present, there are frequent times when meditation asks us to sit with difficult feelings or sensations. A very wise process, though sometimes a turbulent one. 

The only difference I find between drawing/tangling and classical meditation is the incredible focus that drawing evokes, and how that focus prevents me from being aware of anything else.  Sometimes this is more useful than meditation.

Since that one lovely peaceful day of drawing, life has ramped up and things are, at the moment, confusing and unsettled.  I am sitting with this in meditation and just observing that.

But clearly there is a place for both practices in my life, meditation and drawing, during times like this.   Both feel as precious to me as breathing, and both lead me to clearer perspective and inner peace.  Each method works in its own way.

Every day I meditate. 

But so far, I have not mastered the practice of daily drawing or tangling.  I see the benefits of both, and I always make time for meditation.  But too often I do not make time for drawing.  Instead I pay bills, or work, run irrelevant errands, or knit while watching television.  Or--although this is nearly as beneficial--I work on designing, dyeing for, or hooking my latest rug.  Rug hooking is incredibly meditative.  But it still doesn't have the effect on me that drawing does, and the past couple of weeks have proved to me how true that is.  I frequently feel I want to draw, but tell myself that other tasks are more important. 

But are they?

Life is complicated.  Drawing, breathing, seeing, following just that one line at a time, is so very simple.  Perspective in drawing...perspective in life.

The viewer of art can go into a kind of meditation, a bit of a different sense or feeling.
- Dorthe Eisenhardt

I believe that painting should come through the avenues of meditation rather than the canals of action.
- Mark Tobey