The snow melted. Some warm days. Another winter storm on the way for the weekend. I was born in a snowstorm. Ok. It's February. Until it isn't.
Clouds. Because I have been playing with them, and I suppose, then, I have been thinking about them. Or is it the other way around?
More of a figurative shape for a loose patch, as opposed to the more basic shapes I work with. But then, clouds, they don't really have a shape. Maybe I can think about that. What can be built with shapeless?
But I suppose I am just practicing, here, posting here, on a regular basis, getting in the swing of it, diary mode. Making sure all is working. But then noticing, suddenly, my growing tendency to space out, slow down, not worry. Lose my train of thought. How that seems to take me somewhere anyway. How I actually always enjoyed that. Need that. nesting
I am thinking about image. The language of it.
Is it, mostly, to talk to ourselves? Am I really, often, just an illustrator?
I added a smidge of shibori ribbon from Glennis. Woven right in. It goes a long way and because of the nature of the silk and the bias, it has a great liquid quality about it, pulls out of shape and conforms to my whims.