This morning, something falls away when I pick up yesterday’s stalled work in progress, reach for a chunky Stabilo Woody pencil, and begin scribbling.
I re-inhabit an orientation to the world I remember from early childhood, maybe four years old, mostly wordless and highly sensory—the feel of air on my skin, the hum of the motor of a neighborhood lawn mower, the satisfying heft of the fat pencil in my hand, the gentle friction of moving it freely over paper, the complete absorption of watching change take place in front of me in response to my actions, the sense that my mom is nearby even though not in the room with me, the knowledge in my heart that all is well. I engage fully in a flow of being and doing, a flow that includes little in the way of thinking.
Delicious.
5.5 x 7″
acrylic, India ink, oil pastel, and watercolor pencil
on canvas-textured paper
abstract
2023
dottyseiter: now playing 
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