The World is Too Much With Us

The world is too much with us; late and soon, Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers: Little we see in Nature that is ours; We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon! This sea that bares her bosom to the moon; The winds that will be howling at all hours, And are…

For the Creators.

I keep this above my desk for courage when I’m making that transition between thinking something up and getting it down.

Brown Pelican

Study of a brown pelican for no particular reason.   Then turned into four panel narrative, “the oil spill”.

Woman who mistook me for her brother.

On my walk to the cafe this morning I fell in pace for a moment beside an elderly woman, and without first getting my attention she said very casually: “Are they holding class today?” Turning to see that there was no one else near us, and even though I was a bit too far away for…

I too knew quite well what love was.

When I make notes in my sketchbook I’m not usually trying to combine images with text in a meaningful way. Things just fall onto the page wherever they happen to go as they occur to me — they’re notes. But often the right image and text find their way to each other just the same….

What are you thirsty for?

One of my favorite passages in Antoine De Saint-Exupéry’s The Little Prince is about the man who invents a pill to quench thirst. Here is the passage: “Good morning,” said the little prince.      “Good morning,” said the salesclerk. This was a salesclerk who sold pills invented to quench thirst. Swallow one a week and…

Figure Drawings

Just some figure drawings from my sketchbooks done at different times.

Not Waving But Drowning. Stevie Smith.

Nobody heard him, the dead man, But still he lay moaning: I was much further out than you thought And not waving but drowning. Poor chap, he always loved larking And now he’s dead It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way, They said. Oh, no no no, it was too cold…

Wild Geese. Mary Oliver.

You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves. Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine. Meanwhile the world goes on….