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| unfinished things. |
| 05.22.06 (11:53 pm) [edit] |
|
We've all become so very quiet.
|
posted by: lurit (reply)
post date: 05.22.06 (7:16 pm)
That's an impressive mustache.
Why is everyone quiet?
I feel as though I've become a bit louder over the past few months.
I'm not certain of it though.
posted by: juniperflux (reply)
post date: 05.26.06 (3:39 am)
Recently, you spoke of the bravery of the artist who trusts himself to draw in broad, sweeping lines. You admired the risks that such lines require while I admired the spirit capable of seeing such things. Now... I'm looking at a man made up of thousands of tiny dots and I find myself drawn to a few wee lines on the end of his chin: Cocking my head, I thought "hmmmm... he missed a few blackbird hairs when shaving" utterly and remarkably convinced, for one beautiful moment, that those lines were actually forgotten and overlooked rather than being perfectly and intentionally placed there by an artist whose own bravery is worth noting.
Yesterday your finger traced the single and defining line at the small of Tanya's back... you said you thought perhaps it was the best line ever.
I'm afraid I have to disagree.
j
posted by: scubadiva (reply)
post date: 05.26.06 (5:09 am)
Why haven't I discovered your blog earlier? You have an amazing talent - both with your drawing and with your wit, thoughts, and perspective.
posted by: skyfalling (reply)
post date: 05.28.06 (9:34 pm)
Love your drawings! Keep up the good work!!!
;)
posted by: thejongleur (reply)
post date: 06.01.06 (2:19 pm)
Reply to: lurit
"That's an impressive mustache."
Isn't it just? Difficult to overcome the urge to grab. Or run.
"Why is everyone quiet?
I feel as though I've become a bit louder over the past few months.
I'm not certain of it though."
I know I have been. I tend to move quietly under the cover of darkness, and it seems I'm bumping into fewer people.
Thank you, lurit.
ams
posted by: thejongleur (reply)
post date: 06.01.06 (2:21 pm)
Reply to: juniperflux
*smile*
I've become rather enamoured with the line.
I've sent you a page or two.
Thank you for making it ok, jennifer.
ams
posted by: thejongleur (reply)
post date: 06.01.06 (2:25 pm)
Reply to: scubadiva
Thank you for taking the time to look, and for finding something to say.
Company in this place makes me glad.
ams
posted by: thejongleur (reply)
post date: 06.01.06 (2:26 pm)
Reply to: skyfalling
*smile*
Thank you.
I'll try.
ams
posted by: PastorDave (reply)
post date: 06.02.06 (5:18 pm)
Boy, I am terrible with the interpretation of art. I know a gift when I see it. I think I'll just look....and think...
posted by: thejongleur (reply)
post date: 06.03.06 (3:40 am)
Really? I think it is a game worth playing sometimes. Even quietly.
Thank you for stopping by, and talking.
ams
posted by: lostsymphony (reply)
post date: 06.10.06 (4:18 am)
you drew all the drawings?
posted by: thejongleur (reply)
post date: 06.10.06 (6:09 am)
Hello.
I drew all the drawings.
Thank you.
ams
posted by: I'm just a big Richard Simmons fan. (reply)
post date: 07.11.06 (11:11 am)
As the page opened, the woman stared up at it. 'Ah, a new drawing. Finally.', she said aloud. She wondered briefly if this one would have a political edge to it. If it did, she wondered if she'd get it. She used to dislike feeling left out of the loop once upon a time, but it didn't bother her as much anymore. She figured she was lucky to know as much as she did, about the behind-the-scenes and whatnot. And sometimes, it's enough to just look. And not understand. She sat there, staring at it for a few seconds. She looked into the dark eyebrows, overpowering mustache and what she guessed was a smooth mix of pointilism and smudging, before slowly reading the scrawled comments above and the typed statement below. Again, her eyes flicked to the mustache and eyebrows that swallowed up the man's face. She shivered a little at the thought of standing in front of him. As she read the comments again, she mused to herself, 'I wonder if those talks were good or bad.. one can never be sure with him, so perhaps it's best not to assume.' She continued to gaze at the imposing figure, curious to know more about him, why he inspired such a dark rendering. She wondered if he was really this feirce. She wondered if he was a nice man.. wondered what kind of love he showed his son. Her mind conjured up images of the boy and the man spending time together. She could see them sitting outside together on a warm, breezy day, the sun shining, the clouds lingering, and she could see them at opposites ends of the house, as far away from each other as they could get - it could go either way, and perhaps it did. And then, unexpectedly, she saw her own father, bushy, red and white beard, long mustache, also mouthless, with a gruff exterior and little words. She realized they'd never talked of grown up things. They'd never talked of any things.
She knew how quiet she had become - there was no guess work there.. and drew up a few analogies to explain this.. winter seasons and the like, people huddled indoors with blankets, conserving energy and moving slowly, while waiting out the cold.. she quickly tossed it out, for fear of sounding like an idiot. As she grappled with something to say to the artist in response to the drawing and thoughts that had inspired so much mental activity, she realized she was still trying to predict some of his intentions behind the picture, which would prove nothing but futile. She didn't like the idea of sharing her own miserable experiences that may or may not relate to the bushy lipped man, or to the likely clean-shaven son holding up the page.. despite his acceptance and enjoyment of others' interpretations of his work.
'I just won't say anything.. For now.' She closed the page and got back to work. She visited the picture four more times over the course of the next two weeks, and both times, she left in silence. She couldn't think of a clever compliment or catchy story to tell. Alas, today, she gave up, realizing that sometimes, the story doesn't need creating. Sometimes, it just happens.