Learning. Always learning.

Early morning dog walk on the beach. On the way there a flock of curlew flew across the hill in echo of the invitation painting for the exhibition opening tomorrow. Made me smile.
On the way home a dead rabbit lay in the road. I collected things for the day ahead and stopped to collect the still warm body. Soft fur, shine still in the eye, almost warm. Dead. So many times I have wanted to just draw, so I decided to change plans and begin a series of roadkill drawings. ( Traveling so much over the last few weeks I have been shocked by the weight of dead creatures by the roadside. Foxes, badgers, deer, more pheasants than a shooting party could hope to bag, cats, dogs, buzzards and owls. Sad) I remembered something one of my tutors had once said. " Never make a mark without thinking of what you are doing, without thinking of what it is you are trying to say." I begin to understand what he meant, but it is a tentative understanding.

 

Other drawings happened and I  prepared the Hobb cover for gilding tomorrow. I hate these pieces when they are at this stage. They look ugly to my eyes.

I met two young people, the girl a student from Bath Academy. She wouldn't have been born when I left there. Both fantasy fiction fans, both interesting to talk with, they now frequent places I once did when I lived in Bath.

Home, tired, to a house warm because Hannah had made the fire, Tom had got the logs in. I took the rabbit to the high hill top, a present for the ravens now, or maybe for the winter fox.  A rainbow shone in the sky and wind ruffled his soft fur. Peace.