Friday, March 06, 2009

Early spring, not good news and concentrate.

1. Chocolate brown thicket branches are studded with silver pussy willows.

2. 80 of us sardine into editorial to hear it -- the reporters have come in from the town offices. Those on holiday come in wearing jeans. The drivers have come up from the garage. People I've never seen before are crowded round the sports desk. We hush for the story. Faces drop and pale. Tight voices come up with questions. 'Will there...' 'What about...' 'Does that include...' Finally. 'Any more questions?' Stone silence. And then the IT man's snake charmer mobile phone goes off. Our nervous laughs blow away some of the tension.

3. My mind is racing, and I can't turn my thoughts to drawing. I think about leaving the class early. But I hang on. This picture doesn't have to be great, I tell myself. It's an exercise in directional shading, hardly art at all. Gradually, my head slows down; turns its attention to the shading, becomes fascinated with how that line works. Before I know it, it's time to clear up.