Sumi Alone

My little studio in the orchard

Not a time to paint with black and white with all this riotous fall color going on, you might say.  And I would agree. . . with the exception of sumi ink, which prepares us resolutely for the upcoming season of dark dramas.

So along with my Muse friends I got out my sticks and sumi ink to doodle and explore lines and shapes and the beautiful warm gray tones you can get with sumi. This was the point when I stopped and did some writing. . .

A line takes a walk

It’s late afternoon and the light is dwindling

But it takes heart and sets off

No time to worry about direction

And the trees tip this way and that

but the line is still walking now

Emboldened by its very own blackness, brashness, ballsiness

Its I-don’t-care-what-you think-I’m-liking-this ness

Til the tiniest seed of doubt creeps in. . .

But does it need color?

And a great weariness takes over. . .

I manage to resist the color, yet contemplate further the doodle shapes. . .

    A skinny snake trying to digest an overly large mouthful?

    Some hearts drank too much at a convention?

    Rapunzel, just off the page, has let down her long hair?

And then, I almost load up a brush with a juicy load of red or yellow, but no! The purity of the sumi must not be tampered with. . .this time.

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