It’s getting dark early. Long shadows stretch past my door and wiggle a webbed pattern across the ground’s shifting pitch. Ghosts slide in like smoke and pause to chat and show me pictures that have always been here. The moon rises smiling and begins its nightly cartwheel. Old sticks spill secrets of the fungal gods that connect us all under the winter’s frost coat. They crack and hiss their prurient tales of palace intrigue to anyone patient and quiet or drunk enough to hear. I’m here. And now that I have tuned this frequency I am working feverishly to capture the rhythms and share their import. Drawings swirl and pile up like leaves, each an attempt to bind the vision right here at my feet with images behind my eyes. My fear and learning are nothing against the danger that is all around us. We need music and openness and the hum of labor. Being at work is being good today, or good enough to get to tomorrow.
Below are an army of backyard dreamings from 2017 winter and spring. The most recent are 32x40" but all others are a modest 8x10" ink, watercolor, pencil and sometimes marker.
Available as monograph from Extended Play Press:
Long Shadows. Monograph of 2017 works on paper by Extended Play Press
9x12", Digital Offset, 54 pages, and screen printed dust jacket.