My neighbor jokes with me as I head out past his house. His dog waves its tail and sniffs the scent of impending rain in the air. Being a numbers guy, George has determined he can walk the dog and get back before the rain starts falling. Still, he dresses with rain on his mind. The joke is on me of course because I wear a sweatshirt and carry my unprotected art supplies as I usually do. I work on paper with pastels and ink.
Dog's noses don't lie and the mist soon turned into a steady drizzle. As I drew pictures at the park, it settled in and I had to make my own weather-related calculations. At some point, the rain might wash my work away and by the time I get home, I might be left with a ghost drawing and only memories of things that got away. I'm buoyed however by Thoreau's appreciation for getting "
profitably soaked."
 |
| 10-16-26-island |
No comments:
Post a Comment
I'd love to hear from you…