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February 2011


February 2011



Marching storms. Icy fingers drumming. Watching the parade.
2.1.2011


Not separate from the season.
2.2.2011


Individuation. Information. Inspiration. Trying to ride the waves.
2.3.2011


"There aren't many colors in the winter, are there Dad?" he asked. Then we looked together and saw there were lots.
2.4.2011


Seeds sleeping under the snow dream fancy dreams about what they will become in the spring.
2.5.2011


Old man winter takes a breather. Some ice melts.
2.6.2011


Moving through a vanishing point to a new perspective.
2.7.2011


When thoughts are released their phylogons dissolve into vortices and eddies.
2.8.2011


In this drawing I recognize two kinds of centers. The closed ones remind me of the 'living centers' described by Christopher Alexander in "The Nature of Order." The open centers look like the forms that I have been calling 'cycles'. When I imagine the four sketches as frames in a movie I get the feeling that a single center is breathing.
2.9.2011


Many buckets. Filled with water. Reflecting the sun.
2.10.2011


A brief shining moment rolls by and the cold recycles.
2.11.2011


Point to the tightest spot. Every direction is more open from there.
2.12.2011


Father, mother sister, brother. Overlapping frames reshape each other.
2.13.2011


Self portrait while taking a good long look inside.
2.14.2011


A closeness that is really no separation at all.
2.15.2011


Meeting an alien and finding you are interdependent. Like soil waking up to the plants growing in it.
2.16.2011


River rock. Worn by flow. Incised lines. Phase dream. Deep internal debate.
2.17.2011


-Daddy, do the years ever stop?

-No, sweetheart, they just keep going by.

-Why?
2.18.2011


Divided into pieces. Surrounded by the void.
2.19.2011


Blocky flow. Convergence. Competition.
2.20.2011


Diverse terrain. Redrawn map. New outlook.
2.21.2011


Change on a cellular level. Rewriting DNA. Developing new sense organs.
2.22.2011


Colors versus lines. Which demarcation prevails?
2.23.2011


Continents break apart. Cycles renew.
2.24.2011


Dispersed but subtly connected.
2.25.2011


Stone cold. Despite the near freezing temperatures I walked through the snow to the barn today. The sun was out and I really wanted to be drawing in that space again. It felt pretty marvelous and I tried to work there for as long as I could stand it. When the chill finally chased me out, I turned and watched as a thick slab of ice, one that curled over the gutter and along the entire length of the roof, suddenly broke away and dropped to the ground with a big thump. I could feel it in my chest. The sun gleamed off the metal roof and the remaining icicles poured water; hurriedly trying to get to the ground themselves.
2.26.2011


The river and the ocean. The surface and the well.
2.27.2011


The river, strong at the top of the cycle, fades as the source needs refilling.
2.28.2011