My idea of what a drawing is has gotten bigger even as the drawings themselves sometimes get smaller.  I used to be so picky about what I would let myself call a “drawing.”  As I’ve gotten older, I let my hair down.  Though the drawing be less, though the hair sometimes be less as well, I let it go.  I was uptight in my youth.  I’m a free spirit now.

There are so many ways of drawing.  These days I am as apt to make drawings that are like mental notes as I am to make careful depictions of things.  And one relates well to the other.  You make the note to remind yourself to depict at a later date.

And this drawing involves an exercise in wool-gathering.  I drew an imaginary place that’s based upon a real place, but one that is fuzzy in dim memory.  There was a still pond surrounded by trees.

Indeed, this drawing is like the sentence “There was a still pond surrounded by trees.”  It’s just that much and no more.

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