(Creating) On the Road
Posted in Art, Poetry & Prose, Writing on Apr 28th, 2008 No Comments »
Had a few minutes between destinations today, so pulled off the road downtown and sat by the geyser fountains in Parc Sans Souci to work on a sketch I started in the van between earlier destinations.
Priss ran laps while I sketched and blended, then erased and dabbed, and sketched and blended some more. The 6:30 breeze kept blowing my hair in my face which made it more difficult to preserve continuity of focus, especially with the evening sun slinking behind the multi-story parking garage on the north side of the street.
A lone older man sat in the bench on the opposite side of the fountains, contemplating who-knows-what but probably disturbed by the loud slap-slap-slapping of Priss’s shoes hitting the pavement as she passed again and again. I apologized to him in my head, sympathetic we broke his peace. Been there before.
—
I’ve taken to drawing spontaneous sketches and writing impromptu poems on the backs of index cards. They travel well; are card-stock, for that little bit of extra backing for portable working; just enough lines on one side for the four-or-five-verse structure I’ve grown accustomed to; just enough white space on the back for a short, intense drawing that functions more as a phrase than a full-blown statement.
Not archival quality, to be sure, but with everything safe and secure on hard drive, the originals serve little more than sentiment, seeing as I never do anything with them but slip them into a portfolio which is destined to join the dozens of other hardback journals and sketchbooks in the attic.
Looks like a revisitation to The Backpack Days when I carried my writing, drawing, and sculpture supplies with me wherever I went so I wouldn’t be caught unprepared should inspiration strike at a given moment. Except now, it’s not a backpack, but a decidedly unattractive, navy nylon (not even canvas, for cryin’ out loud) briefcase-style tote with various offshore drilling logos embroidered on the side. In no way feminine or inspiring. But it is 100% functional, which is the sole reason I carry it.
I might get used to carrying my studio(s) with me again, except I’m afraid of getting too comfortable with feeling “artsy.” That always leads to idealism-overload, which invariably leads to disappointment, then depression. I hate being so aware of my psychological cycles. I’m too tempted to break a pattern before it even begins, which is also described as “Avoidant” in some circles, and “Fatalistic” in others.
Someone said, “Don’t think too much — just [write/draw/create/dance/study/train] — if you keep [writing/drawing/creating/dancing/studying/training] everything will come into place.”
‘Ailina types a last line, then retreats into the shadows of her studio, fresh cup of coffee in hand. [_]o
