Filed under: stuff
Errrrr. Last time I posted I wrote that I’d be frequenting the posting pages a little more regularly. So much for that. Oh well. Perhaps this photo compostion will say a little more than my often misleading words.

So it’s been a while since I’ve graced the pages of the blogosphere. It’s not been intentional, just coincidental. I have the best of intentions to come and write and comment. Then I get to the computer and hesitate, I slightly consider the enjoyment of sharing thoughts and ideas, before I jump into the online job applications (which take forever), or get distracted by the plethora of people congregating in this study, one of the smallest rooms in our house. On the rare occasion that I do contribute to a post of another it’s often misunderstood anyhow.
Enough of this though. Now that my course has come to an end I intend to write a bit more online in one way or another.
Today I had the freedom to draw all day. Well, perhaps this is a slight warping of the truth. I do have certain pending matters to deal with – such as finding a job and cleaning for the arrival of foreign dwelling brother and sister in law. But today, the beautiful wet weather called for green tea and letter writing and the pleasure of mark making. My drawing ventured to subject matter once very familiar. As a kid I drew a truckload of fairies and small folk. Sketchbooks and computer paper overflowing with them. I loved their delicacy, their inconspicuous nature and their playground. I think it was their dwellings that seized my imagination best. That and the ability to fly. Tiny people living among the natural wonderland of my wild garden. I vividly recall my neighbour creating a tiny structure out of the thinnest twigs and grasses to provide shelter for the little beasts. I was captivated.
Anyway, these days I don’t tend to spend much time thinking about such things. But I was sketching a face today and this one just jumped out at me. So this goes out to the winged folk.

One more week to go and I’ll be entering a new phase of anna-existence. The type that doesn’t involve hitting the rails lines into town, the one that doesn’t involve a brisk walk up the steep parliament station escalators, the one that doesn’t include the dear smiling face of my friend that sells me the Big Issue for $4 a bargain-made pop. Goodbye to my long-awaited and very pleasant early morning coffee and the wet roads and the thinking time.
Seasons are good.
