Daphne Becoming-Tree

Daphne, 20.5cm x 20.5cm, 8" x 8", dip pen with India, acrylic and fountain pen inks, Moleskine Folio Sketchbook A4. (Click on image for larger size.)

I hand wrote the words with a dip pen under the image today.

I lay in the park sketching the tree; though invisible to the biological eye, she was there. Neither did the lake exist, nor the rocks. It was sunny and yet I found a sliver of a moon and a star on the paper. The child in me saw her. She is like a paper cut-out, drawn as a child would draw; she is Daphne. Look at her laurel crown. Her arms are turning into branches with leaves. I found her ghostdrawing her myth in the green dreaming imagination of the woman drawing in the book on her lap.

This Daphne is caught, perpetually transforming, as night falls. Apollo, the god of light, long gone. No sign of Cupid's arrow, if it ever flew.

Stone #74: Daphne

Daphne, 20.5cm x 20.5cm, 8" x 8", dip pen with India, acrylic and fountain pen inks, Moleskine Folio Sketchbook A4. (Click on image for larger size.)

I lay in the park sketching the tree; though invisible to the biological eye, she was there. Neither did the lake exist, nor the rocks. It was sunny and yet I found a sliver of a moon and a star on the paper. The child in me saw her. She is like a paper cut-out, drawn as a child would draw; she is Daphne. Look at her laurel crown. Her arms are turning into branches with leaves. I found her ghostdrawing her myth in the green dreaming imagination of the woman drawing in the book on her lap.

This Daphne is caught, perpetually transforming, as night falls. Apollo, the god of light, long gone. No sign of Cupid's arrow, if it ever flew.

_
According to Greek myth, Apollo chased the nymph Daphne. From Ovid's Metamorphoses:

...a heavy numbness seized her limbs, thin bark closed over her breast, her hair turned into leaves, her arms into branches, her feet so swift a moment ago stuck fast in slow-growing roots, her face was lost in the canopy. Only her shining beauty was left.

Stone #73

Rain pounding, my sticky heat-riven body wet-soaked, like the laughing people passing by. Water criss-crosses the drought-white grass.

_
The style here a little 50s, I thought. Post-Joycean, hyphenated word pairs.

The Dancer with the Full Moon in her Throat (sketch 2)

The Dancer with the Full Moon in her Throat, sketch 2, 2011, 20cm x 28cm, 8" x 11", India, ink, graphite, Moleskine Folio Sketchbook A4.

Before coffee this morning I got out my Rotring EF pen, the one in which I now use KOH--NOOR's 'Fount India - drawing ink for fountain pens,' a beautiful find. You cannot use permanent India inks in fountain pens because the enamel in the pigment will cause them to clog. Finding one specially formulated for a pen gives you something that will not smudge or blur when you brush it with coloured inks, or washes of oils, acrylics or other media.

The little drawing of the Woman Dancing the Dance of the Full Moon in her Throat is coming along. I like the imperfections in the pose, the slight awkwardness of mismatching. I think I will lengthen her legs, and then see where the sky can go. Round it off a bit better, and then either keep making more lines or brush some sort of colour in the drawing. Who knows.

That's the best part about drawing so freely. You let the pen in your hand take you along. One thing suggests another and off you go.

The Dancer with the Full Moon in her Throat, 2011, 20cm x 28cm, 8" x 11", India, ink, graphite, Moleskine Folio Sketchbook A4.

Stone #72 (The Dancer with the Full Moon in her Throat (sketch 1))

The Dancer with the Full Moon in her Throat, sketch 1, 2011, 20cm x 28cm, 8" x 11", India, ink, graphite, Moleskine Folio Sketchbook A4.

Instead of watching a movie, Fellini's 'Satyricon' on the burner waiting, saw it years ago, I drew. Been busy the past few days, and I should sit back, but I don't relax too well. From my Moleskine Sketchbook... hopefully finish in the morning. Or maybe stay up... the full moon needs to go in, I think she is dancing a dance of the full moon, and that means a dark sky, and lots of ink... the full moon is in her throat, I see it now, and in the night sky.

She is reaching for her throat, for the full moon.

Stone #71

The plum, dark purple skin, pearl yellow flesh, firm, a sharp juice, releases sweetness to the tongue, like swallowing the moon.

Stone #70

Wherever I am touched, light summer dress, underwear, couch, skin on skin behind knees, head under braided hair, I sweat.