I bent down and picked up another…
“Haven’t you got enough bloody twigs?” Asked my husband.
“I haven’t got one like THIS!” I said as I straightened up with a groan.
And there it is.
I’m collecting twigs from the park every time we go. I have a special bag to put them in.
I think he is a little disturbed by the associated creepy crawlies that inevitably end up on the dining table as they dry out, on kitchen roll on a tray. Twigs contained, creepy crawlies not so much.
I am doing some old fashioned observational drawings. I had originally intended to draw all sorts of natural forms: sea shells, leaves, feathers, flowers… but I seem to have got stuck at twigs (nearly but not quite a pun).
The idea is that I will use these closely observed drawings to feed my abstractions. A series of different marks, pulled from reality and re-used. I also have in my head that when the weather gets better I shall immerse myself in these drawings, and do them sat on the bench actually in the park. For maybe every day for a week. I am a big believer in immersion for all sorts of tasks that need doing. Songwriting works particularly well in the Immersion Method.
Anyway, dear husband, no, I don’t have enough twigs. I have barely started!
Each twig I pick up has different characteristics, a personality… and this is why there won’t be any sea shells or feathers just yet. I’ve barely scratched the surface with the twigs!
At the moment I am drawing with very simple ink lines. I suspect I might start again, with the first twigs, but use graphite. Maybe watercolour? charcoal? But only when the inky lines have stopped satisfying me.