Day thirty-one: Seasonal gourds and a straw broom rested on the porch. The wind was picking up, and the barometer was dancing.
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I hope you’ve enjoyed this Inktober as much as I have! Stay tuned— I’ll be putting together a little book of these drawings (and possibly a few more) in the weeks to come!
A murmuration of starlings could be spotted in the distance, swirling and changing formation above the far edge of the tilled field.
Days twenty-nine and thirty of #Inktober. Click through to see the individual drawings in more detail.
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While I’m writing, I want to say thanks to everyone who’s found and followed this blog in the past month or two. The family is growing, and I’ve looked at, read, and followed so many of your blogs, too. My birthday was October 27th, and today the number reached 1,027, so thank you, again!
I’ve been on a new trajectory. It’s great; it’s weird, It’s new. I love new.
I also love Old. That’s neither here nor there. I’ve been feeling like a teenager again, lately. In the sense where I’m acutely aware how temporary so many people in one’s life tend to be. It’s not a judgement call; only acknowledgement of reality.
Most folks are temporary. There’s a time during which you overlap. It ends.
The thing to always remember is that you’re permanent. Be permanent to yourself. A solid. And recognize those who exhibit permanent qualities in return— they’re your rocks. Will help get you to your True North. The Keepers.
Days twenty-seven and twenty-eight, a diptych:
She had a Victorian sensibility and liked to collect little things she found on her walks.
Days twenty-four through twenty-six! An array of ornate forks that’d belonged to his grandparents were among the day to day utensils she ate with.
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(These count as three drawings, for days Oct 24th – 26th. If you’ve a problem with that, I can’t care.)
Day twenty-three: A paper box of safety matches could always be found by the stove.
Day twenty-two: A model pirate ship in a bottle languished on a shelf in the corner, a vestige of his youth.