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