Taking a break from my drawing and writing, and yes I have been doing something worthy of the time, and not just trolling the interwebs.
Spur of the moment.
Took a fresh sheet of Velum and just let go of the self imposed restrictions of deviating from the task at hand, which is finishing my first graphic novel, and just draw what my heart wants to. No hesitation this time, I put to paper my most selfish, self-centered, gratuitous memory, imagined or otherwise and what unravelled just made me want to finish what could have taken days to do, not stopping for fear of losing this particular secret memory, taking each small detail into mind that could have been perfectly captured with a camera, but with a more emotional attachment, something I never thought wrong, nor immoral, nor shameful. The mind’s lustful secrets of love and regrets, and the end that was as painful and numbing at the same time.
Living the moment.
While the penciled sketch was giving this memory soul, the ink probably gave it the heart. I have struggled to draw the way I want to, in my own style, however simple and outdated. I wanted to illustrate a memory that said what I meant to say, feel what the memory feels and capture that one moment of shutting out the world and drinking the presence in all it’s filling comfort. I wanted something that do not need color. My moment does not have to be refined, but to capture something that will never again occur in my lifetime, was the single thing in my mind.
Drawn from well kept feelings of love, joy, desire and liberation. An image created while the eyes are closed and the mind collecting the bits and pieces that makes this one moment live forever.
Now I have something to keep for myself, to hang on my wall, and see everyday, without ever looking away…
Author’s Note: Sometimes it’s the drawing that inspires the story, often times, it’s the other way around. Either way, this particular illustration is a favorite and the fondness extends to having this framed . As of now, it is mounted with a backing board ang hangs on my small room wall. Certainly a memory worth seeing each waking hour.