I don’t ordinarily add words to pictures, it seems …unnecessary and often removes something from the work, but today I’m making an exception.
Words don’t always come naturally to me (spoken or written) they seldom tumble forth with any coherence or direction, just vague intention and purpose….sometimes they work, mostly they just fall. The more weight they carry the softer they should land perhaps, I have to tread carefully always for fear of crushing something so delicate, so considered…I wonder if we take enough time to feel the weight of the things we say.
This piece is dedicated to my wife, a muse in the truest sense of the word without her there’s just a void.
It’s been a while since I worked in pencil so I had a bit of a dabble this afternoon with a little help from my copy of Poe’s ‘The Raven’.
I must confess I became so enamoured with the lines of Lenore’s dress I almost forgot about the second figure. I found something particularly hypnotic about the lines in this sketch, strangely calming and incredibly satisfying…just looking at a particular line (or series of lines) and feeling a sense of complete satisfaction. IS that just me?