Here’s what I haven’t posted the past few days— and I’m still three days behind! But the missing drawings will be forthcoming. I’m a man of my word, dammit.
Above, Day twenty-seven: : The witch boy on a night walking beneath the pointy crescent moon.
Day twenty-six: My FACE! Here’s a variation, as I already included one in the last post. This makeup was my 26 day drawing, haha.
Day twenty-five: a palm plant, enjoying the sunshine of the east-facing window in her new-old house.
It arrived with that kind of grey rain that settles in for a few days, so you just have to settle with it.
I was out all day Sunday and into the night; eight miles of walking in the rain, and when I got home the apartment was clammy like when it rains at a beach house during vacation and steals away some of the fun.
I had to put on pajamas for sleeping. The beginnings of Fall.
Revisiting the April trip, zooming back to Berlin, in black and white. We begin here in RAW-Gelande, the graffiti-clad playground to artists and DJs, just over the river in East Berlin..
Feeling a little Brutal(ism) on this corner, but in person it was a rather lovely building. blue sky reflecting in all the glass.
As we approached these bristling spires, I was all anticipation, as the light was adding a kind of shadowy drama to the silhouettes.
A stunning, lyrical façade rendered prickly and sere in the fading light and surround of winter tree branches.This cathedral is a hollow shell; was bombed heavily, during WWII, but much of the exterior remains in what is now a park.
I’ll eave you with the ethereal image below— rivulets streaming down from the apex of Viktoria Park, which was neighbor to us for our days in Berlin.
Two weekends ago, I spent some days in a fantastic waterside lodge for a wedding in south Georgia. Above, a view of the little lake. Mossed-draped trees trace menacing silhouettes across the water. This was late at night, and the frogs were singing— an orchestra louder than the nighttime city.
The lake, seen Saturday afternoon, just before the storm descended, bringing winds, thunder, lightning, and wide curtains of rain. I sat on the wide porch under its corrugated metal roof during the whole storm, and enjoyed the display immensely.
Everywhere in the lodge were taxidermied deer and various other beasts, giving the feeling of a hunting lodge (despite being hired out primarily for weddings).
The severed heads had been put on pikes for all and sundry to see; made examples of. The unseasonably warm autumn weather made grotesques of each— death masques submitting to rot and gravity; to the punishments meted by the state.
Passersby turned their heads, and covered their faces with kerchiefs, but there was no ignoring such a brutal and noisome spectacle.
Out the front window near my desk, the swifting plash of car tires; drips dripping off the curled iron of the fire escape.
Out the back window, where the trees climb higher than the roof, rain soft patterings on wet leaves; there is no wind today.
The leaves have not even begun to consider a change of wardrobe, as Summer lingers; couch surfing straight into October.
(This is from last week, when it was still in the 80ºs.)
Day thirteen is also Friday the 13th. I present a bird skull, perhaps a crow or raven, ‘neath the glittering firmament on a moonless night.
Happy Friday the 13th, readers!
And remember, there’s more art: @edaggarart & elizabethdaggar.com
Day eleven of #Inktober.
The coffee was still hot, but he was nowhere to be found in the house. A window was open across the room, and a chill wind came through.
more art: @edaggarart & elizabethdaggar.com
There is a hum in the wires. It’s faint but if you close your eyes it’ll find you. It was there before the wires were strung, but in them it found a conduit. It’s elemental, but not the way you may think. It’s not the wind, either. Those forces are altogether different to what sings along these undulating lines.