::
i start to draw.
i bought brand new brushes and a box of 12-colour chinese ink.
and a box of 36-colour oil pastel.
i open them as if i opened my heart.
i open my heart as i draw.
water. liquid. liquid. diffusion. strokes. touches. hairy. fingers.
perhaps solitude.
what the visual artist said was really right.
quietness is no longer mistaken when i draw.
better than words.
in complete freedom.
solitary in beauty has found me.
::
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interesting. i am thinking of drawing again recently, especially oil painting. and so strong the desire is ^:^ especially when life and death is not a matter of imagination and contemplation but a real fight for someone around
cross-road
hey~ i quite like the two tailing ;-) especially when i know it's from u. marks on surfaces, made and gone; beauty on solitude, sparked and lived.
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