Sometimes a fish jumps out and flies above the surface of thought,  a flash of light on wet scales.  He looks at you and dives back underneath the water, sinking into that dark obscurity of beauty and darkness into a liquid night.

What some might call just a drawing of a fish, why does it seem to me like a form of travel?  This sharp intensity of attention that lets you draw the fish, it takes you somewhere — to some strange place in thought.  There is this place to which you travel that lies somewhere between yourself and the page.

[Top of the post:  Study of a Fish by Aletha Kuschan, watercolor]

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