Once upon a time a seed landed on the top soil of a freshly dug garden. Laying on the moist earth, it felt at home and began to send roots down into the darkness amongst the worms and other night crawlers. It lay like this for a while through rain and shine, night and day, until it was time to send a shoot skyward. Almost immediately a bird arrived to sing to the new growth encouraging it to burst forth in the way only this shoot could.
The plant that was a seed drew up the soil’s nutrients and its shoot divided into three leaves of vibrant green with red dots. Humans came to lay turf and their boots halted near the plant. They gazed and murmured, then the boots stepped away. Gently, and with minimal vibrations, they laid the turf around the plant, cutting a circle for the place it had claimed as home.
As always, if you’d love to own this, or another image on this site, email me.
This drawing began as a mindfulness exercise to soothe me after stretching my comfort zone. I like the feel of the paper and the sound of the pen making dots. As I look at it I realise it’s a reflection of all the things I’ve been thinking about lately – spirituality, resonance, parts therapy, to name a few. More Than The Sum of Our Parts is for sale. If you’re interested in it or any other art I have for sale, email me.
This is my latest pigment pen drawing, Turning Over A New Leaf, which is for sale – email me if you’d like more information. My research into the phrase, “turning over a new leaf,” highlighted the assumption that often accompanies the intention to turn over a new leaf. Here’s a definition from Collins:
When someone asked me, “are you a cat person or a dog person?” I responded: “both!” I love the friendly way dogs often approach as if you’ve come to see them alone. I also love how cats choose to be around you and leave when they’ve had enough. We can learn something from both these behaviours.
Is pain part of creativity? It seems to be for me. Often, I begin creating a piece of art because I’m in psychological pain and it can transform that pain into healing. The drawing above began on the anniversary of my father’s suicide. Despair was what I was feeling and, somehow, I was able to tap into that feeling and watch it take shape on paper. By externalising it and writing in my journal about it, I could understand it more. I wrote a blog post about the beginning of this process.
Perceiving began with a circle in the middle of the page, which I used a compass to draw. I decided I wanted the picture to consist of circles, some of them incomplete, and I followed my intuitive urges from that point.