Monthly Archive

An invisible singleleaf ash leaf, because I hate the way it came out: stiff and amateurish, to my eye. But I drew. Drawing is good. Process over product.

Isn’t that what Wavyleaf Silktassel sounds like? A resident of the Shire?

It is in fact a large shrub that grows all along the coast of Oregon and California, doing well in serpentine and clay soils. I know far less about geology than I do about botany, which is saying something, and as far as I remember, I never encountered the term “serpentine” until I read Always Coming Home, by Ursula K. Le Guin. The people she writes about, the Kesh–who “might be going to have lived a long, long time from now in Northern California,” as her ethnologist alter ego writes–live in groups named Madrone, Blue Clay, Red Adobe, Yellow Adobe, Obsidian, and Serpentine. Serpentine is a group of igneous minerals; that makes sense, since a lot of California has volcanic soil, which is poor for many plants but great for growing grapes. And wavyleaf silktassel.

As with yesterday’s drawing, I am trying to catch the light. I think this one is more successful.

I am loving this practice, and . . . it means I’m spending zero time on any other art, and I’m feeling itchy about that. My spiritual director put good words to it: this process is more externally focused and the more abstract, less representational, more playful pieces are more internally focused. I think a year of these is more than I need, and it’s time to have a different kind of daily practice.

For the sake of the kind of symmetry and completeness that please my mind, I’ll continue the leaves through the end of the month, June 30: the midway point of the year. Then I’ll either alternate between the leaves and a more internal kind of art, or just switch to the latter. Either way: art, every day.

When I made this decision, I thought, “But I haven’t even gotten to the toothed leaves yet!” and it’s true, I’m still on simple untoothed leaves, but lo and behold, today’s leaf, while not toothed, is–um–fanged? Due to the sharp spines along the leaf edges, it’s aptly called ilicifolia, “Ilex,” i.e., holly, “-leaved.”

I spent two days on this one, really wanting to get the light right. My daughter says I have, so I thought I’d better stop now. It’s hard to know sometimes.

I thought I posted this two days ago, but apparently not.