The daily dose of art A PEN HAS DIED

Sadly, even the felt tip pen doesn't last forever, and the pens that served me so well during the ER days has a life span shorter than usual because they worked overtime - on the spot sketched, doodling, writing, and a generous  share of mindless scribbling.

BARN OF THE DAY 75

Sometimes the quick, small sketch says a lot more that a larger, more elaborate rendering of the subject.  Today's BOD will actually be three of these small sketches.

Sketch #1 ink and markers

Sketch #2  Pencil with pastel higglight

Sketch #3  pen, ink, and pastel

MY BOOKS part II

HERE I SIT #1

Here I sit with pen in hand,

Dreaming of the Promised land.

Unfettered days of my design,

To do the work I claim as mine.

But then I wonder-as here I sit,

Will this be more of the same old shit?

Alas, for me, only time will tell,

As sure as this line rhymes with hell.

The days pass by with their silent dreams,

Ever faster, or so it seems.

Can I withstand so much unknown,

Till we reach our new Kentucky home?

12-01

HERE I SIT #2

Here I sit, pen still in hand,

Hoping for that promised land.

I knew it once, so long ago,

When lines and verses would come and go.

Where once the muses made their home,

My spirits sag as now they roam.

I left that place, or did it leave me?

So now I sit , to wait and see.

2003