Every once in a while I do something specifically in emulation of an artist I admire, and yet often I fail afterwards to see any connection between my picture and the other artist’s picture. In this drawing I was searching for the strange beautiful color-relationship of Bonnard, and I didn’t think I found it. But looking at the drawing again, I discover that I did get something after all. A start.
The first steps of a path are not to be underestimated. Is a beginning after all …
and beginnings are wonderful!
I drive back home at night. Get on the highway. There’s an astonishing number of cars on the road at night no matter what time the hour. On the crests of hills you see the streams of cars before you. Red lights ahead, white lights advancing, each stream a path of lights moving, opposing currents white and red. In this darkness, I fancy I am a fish like my koi. The road has taken me. I am caught up in the current. It has become a black stream of fast water whose calling caught my instinct as it caught those of the others. I joined the throng and we hurry each along our light strewn paths. We are fish migrating. I am become a pupil in the school of fish.
In the school of fish, what do I learn? What is the pattern of which I am unwittingly a part?