Here's where it all starts. Make a slip knot and begin. Cast on a desired number of stitches and then work the rest of the piece from there. There's no way around it really. You have to cast on. Even if it's only two stitches. Or two hundred. This is how we begin. Yet it … Continue reading Cast On
Tag: sketching
A New River
The second day of "Mom's Birthday Nature Tour" had us floating on tubes down the New River in West Jefferson, NC. As we plunked into the lime green mammoths, I continued sending up little pleas for sunshine, like mini flares that sputtered and nearly died out as it began to sprinkle. I settled into the … Continue reading A New River
Pilgrim
I'm still feeling it four days later. A tightness along the back of my legs next to the calf muscle, evidence of all the climbing and descending. On Thursday of last week my family and I loaded up a picnic lunch, water bottles and swim gear for a day at Hanging Rock. My son had … Continue reading Pilgrim
Under the Lily Pads
Yesterday I sat by a pond on the property of Smith Hollow Farm to draw. My pen followed the contours of the half-cloven pads with their stout yet delicate lilies popping up here and there. Some were mere bulbs yet to bloom, others had unfurled and outstretched their usual cup-like shape. Rich color everywhere. This … Continue reading Under the Lily Pads
Adventure
"So much of the adventure of the life we lead rushes past us in a blur. Velocity is the culprit. Velocity and pressure. A sketchbook freezes time. It is an instantaneous form of meditation focusing us on the worth of every passing moment. So often the great adventure of life lies between the lines, in … Continue reading Adventure
Slowing Time
"Time is a relentless river. It rages on, a respecter of no one. And this, this is the only way to slow time: When I fully enter time's swift current, enter into the current moment with the weight of all my attention, I slow the torrent with the weight of me all here. When I'm … Continue reading Slowing Time
Past Their Prime
Something in my morning reading prompted me to make my way to the Gardens yesterday to draw the waning tulips and daffodils. I also remembered a conversation with my father-in-law years ago where he suggested I paint dying flowers. I don't remember too much of what was said. Perhaps there wasn't much. But I do … Continue reading Past Their Prime
Which is It?
I was asked this on a couple of occasions during the Eclection Art Show on Saturday. "So which is it you love the most? Drawing? or Knitting?" That has not been an easy thing to answer for many years. My own agony over which takes precedence over the other has been excruciating at times. Recently though, … Continue reading Which is It?
This Happened…
This sketch of last night's momentous occasion does not capture all that is swirling around in my heart. It does not convey our son's height correctly. Perhaps I'll always view him as a boy, instead of the man he is becoming. The sketch does not depict the entire concert choir at Glenn High School where … Continue reading This Happened…
And so…
It begins like a drawing does, or a knitting project. A drawn line. A cast on stitch. And then another. And another. And another until you reach a stopping point, not an end, but a good place to finish. And then you begin again. Each day is a beginning. Each year. Every decade. I am … Continue reading And so…