Hello friend!
The first newsletter of the month is always dedicated to giving you a glimpse of what’s happening in my art studio. Since I’m working on improving my writing, I challenged myself to write my usual blog-type post without using the “I” pronoun. Giving myself boundaries to my writing—just like with art making—forces me to think more creatively, resulting in a less obvious outcome. I hope you enjoy it!
Soleil, the three-legged she-wolf sits on the drawing table under the window in the studio. Her ears are pricked, eyes alert. The table is a mess around her. Palette papers covered with painted blobs of assorted colours are piled up alongside jars of brushes standing in murky water. A small sketchbook is open on a page covered in tiny ink drawings of Soleil standing next to a Joshua Tree.
When is the creature that walks upright coming? Soleil wonders. It’s been three days since she last visited.
There’s a rattle at the door as it slides open to the left. A hand reaches right to flick the light switch on and there she is, the Creature That Walks Upright. She’s holding a vessel in her right hand and sips from it as she walks over to the drawing table.
“Hmmm, it’s a bit of a mess in here. Sorry, it’s been so long, Soleil.”
“No te preocupes.” Soleil responds, in a soft Mexican accent.
Don’t worry.
The Creature That Walks Upright takes a sheet of paper from a drawer and smoothes it out on the drawing table, pushing the papers and jars to one side just enough to make room. She takes a piece of charcoal in her left hand and makes a mark on the paper, smudges it with the side of her hand and then looks straight at Soleil.
Soleil recognises her cue: time to pose. The three-legged she-wolf takes a breath in and stands still as a statue, proud that she’s able to balance so well after the loss of her front right leg. The Creature That Walks Upright scribbles rapidly, eyes darting from Soleil to the paper.
From time to time the Creature grabs a tube of paint from under the table, screws open the lid and squeezes a generous amount of its contents onto a fresh palette paper. One time, the paint squirts in the wrong direction hitting Soleil with a pop of neon pink on her ear. They both giggle.
In between poses, the two chatter. Soleil talks about resilience, about hope, about getting back up again and running with the pack. The Creature That Stands Upright speaks about the power of drawing and re-drawing ourselves. About friendship, collaboration, and community.
They take a break and walk the newly planted orchard together, debating whether to sow strawberry clover seeds or fescue grass. Soleil sniffs the path where the raccoon walked at sunrise.
Sitting in silence in The Secret Garden, the first spot the sun hits in the morning, they watch the robins and house finches grapple at the bird feeder. A northern flicker—a sure sign that spring is on its way—swoops in, scattering the smaller birds. He clings to the side of the bird feeder, his body as large as the seed container.
Soleil raises an eyebrow, turns to the Creature That Walks Upright and confesses she’s not ready to leave the studio yet. Her edges are not well enough defined; she hasn’t figured out who she is. She needs more time.
“That’s okay, I understand.” says the Creature.
“There’s no rush.”
Soleil runs back into the studio with barely a trace of a limp and nestles in the corner.
“Prueba el pastel rojo.” She says.
Try the red pastel.
Here’s hoping your art steps off the canvas to guide you!
Deep peace to you and Imbolc blessings.
JC
Read how I met my she-wolf friend below. (It’s one of my best posts.)
Ohhh Soleil the muse. I really like this style- refreshing and thought provoking!
It was fun to write from the perspective of a character from my drawing. It made me think about what I’m trying to convey.