I love doing my morning scribbles but sometimes I waver and crash. Then, as all artists know, one solution is to draw the crash. Guess I was getting too cocky about the joy of doing one bad drawing per day, day after day. Today I just did it. I always just do it. And nobody demands it, nobody at all. It was silly and it was fun.
My sister, artist Lesley Evans, is a painter, a real painter who has exhibitions and sells out. But her attitude to creative work is uncannily like mine. She loves it up to her elbows, loves the process, loves the doing. She is always experimenting with new techniques and I’m always excited to get glimpses of her thinking and learning along the way. Any life with Lesley in it is endlessly interesting and fun fun fun.
Imagine my surprise at getting this photo last night: a fabulous painting of herself at work. This is Lesley just the way we know and love her.
By the way, Lesley can and does draw extremely well in the traditional sense, unlike me. I never improve, but she understands anatomy.
A painting that does what a poem does: show you yourself
This is one of the glories of poetry: a poem can show you yourself. It may express your feelings or thoughts, may use words in a memorable way to express something that you have long felt but never articulated successfully. It’s so affirming.
This crazy painting does the same for me. I see my sister having one helluva good time all alone with the tools of her trade. And I see me. She gets me!
It’s only 10:36 and it’s already a happy happy day for me. Does this make you happy too?