Most mornings, for me, are given to Reflective Time (I prefer this designation over “Executive Time”). With coffee before me, I open my journal and begin with a thumbnail collage to mark the day’s entry. This practice has increased in significance for me over recent months, and has a way of opening up my writing. […]
Most mornings, for me, are given to Reflective Time (I prefer this designation over “Executive Time”). With coffee before me, I open my journal and begin with a thumbnail collage to mark the day’s entry. This practice has increased in significance for me over recent months, and has a way of opening up my writing. Below is what I wrote in this morning’s journal, below the collage posted above:
I found myself engrossed in collaging this morning. Lately I’ve been more conscious of tearing paper and using the X-acto knife to carve out intricate, linear shapes. I have also enjoyed creating lines, stripes, with paper torn and sliced. I like the contrasting planes of color. Above all, I love to drag a pencil across the surface, using a straight-edge and creating accent lines. I recall Motherwell, when contrasting drawing and painting, remarking: “Drawing is a racing yacht, cutting through the ocean. Painting is the ocean itself.”
Last night, I began re-reading a book I loved years ago, Sarah Bakewell’s At the Existentialist Cafe: Freedom, Being, and Apricot Cocktails. I am excited about re-opening where I left off last night before going to sleep.
Thanks for reading.
