Thursday, August 14, 2014


Images from my sketchbook, words from my journal
August 7, 2014
I am escaping, I escaped into the woods. Off the travelled path, through the bog, and into an oxbow, hear I sit. Is it far enough? I hear planes, sirens, chain saws and helicoptors. Thankfully not all of them at once. Also wind in the trees, nuthatches and chickadees. The stream is running slow.
Work at home progresses, with a roar. I could not manage to concentrate with the bobcat rumbling, the sterio blasting, and the hammerdrill screaming all together, all at once, in my front window. So here I am, in the woods. I brought an ambitious load of art supplies, but it turns out I misjudged my time. I have 45 minutes max, whoops, but if nothing gets done, at least it's exercise and relative silence and a moment of time for journal entry.
The air is stuffy, or that is the state of my mind. My head feels like it's stuffed with wet rags, and the air is sticky, which goes together. Humid air is not comfortable for me.

posted from Bloggeroid

1 comment:

Michelle Basic Hendry said...

Gorgeous!!! I love this one. Wish I could be in the woods. It's hot here.


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