Simmer Time
Here
I am, at the beginning of a new project. It has been in discussion for a few
weeks and now the practical stuff must be applied. It's a challenge I'm
confident with, but this means nothing. The gap between talking of doing
something and actually doing something is a place in which other things grow in
interest, and you aren't sure if it's disproportionate or not, so one had
better have a good distracting think about it.
I
like a project to simmer in my mind for a while (a very apt soup metaphor.
Exactly as I make soup, in fact, I have to get a sense of a flavour and then
the herbs and spices work.) But how easy it would be to wander away in this
pitch of fascination, wander completely off subject…
In
the clear day sky, a broken eggshell moon is left. An oversight, or act of
defiance?
A
chair is rediscovered under the washing pile.
Old
sketchbooks consulted: remember the series of prints done with plasticine and
ink? Mixed media abstracts with glitter glue and greaseproof paper?
At
work when night falls: hear the crackle, the whiz, the boom, but see none of
the fireworks tonight.
One
might even speak of politics, ponder on history, given the Guy Fawkes
connection. I am quite cross about the Enclosure Acts.
How
lovely, back at my desk: all the potential of blank pages in my gleaming
project sketchpad. Funny how empty things can seem so full of life.
A
pack of drawing pens, unopened: ditto.
Time
to start.
Serious face. |
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