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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