Come with me yet again into the foyer of the house of
‘Who I am.’
This time the green door is the entrance to a world of putting paint or pencil on paper, board or canvas.
My addiction is best told in two simple stories.
I had been sitting sketching on a windy beach in a secluded spot. Eventually I needed to stretch my cramped limbs. As I walked around the dune there before my eyes was a perfect slope of smooth unblemished sand begging to be drawn on.
I absolutely needed to feel the texture of that sand under my fingers. I took a few minutes to sketch with a stick, the profile of a girl and then I dug the fingers of my drawing hand into the sand and conjured up a tangle of curls that were long and flowing, riotous in texture and length.
Finally satisfied I nodded in a ‘job well done’ manner and gathered up my folding chair and bag and went home.
The next morning as I walked through the caravan park I heard a voice shout
‘Hello to the artist!’
Bewildered I stopped to chat to a man and his wife and he told me that he had seen me drawing (unbeknownst to me!) on the sand on the previous day. When I had left he inspected my ‘ beautiful artwork’ and was impressed by the drawing….he drew a frame around it and photographed it for his future enjoyment!
I was overwhelmed by the compliment.
The second story will have to wait until tomorrow.
