Flowers

From Lindgren, Astrid & Hartung, Louise: Ich habe auch gelebt. Briefe einer Freundschaft, Ullstein Verlag, Berlin 2016

I have been filling a sketchbook with botanical illustrations, experimenting with different styles, though most of them are quite realistic. I adore both the highly detailed botanical drawings of the 17th, 18th and 19th centuries and more stylised modern interpretations and am not sure where to go with mine, but enjoying the ride.

The ones in my sketchbook are all done with watersoluble coloured pencils. I only started rendering flowers in oils and acrylics as the main subject of a painting in recent years. Art history is filled with stunning examples of floral art, and they are hugely popular as a theme, yet for some reason I had only ever used them as part of a composition and rarely let them take centre stage.

I love Georgia O'Keeffe's big and bold sculptural paintings of flowers opening and blossoming. And cut-paper flowers and of course the real thing, fresh and ephemeral or preserved: For my birthday my nephew gave me a card with pressed flowers (which I will frame) and a beautiful necklace containing a daisy (and my sister's card was her own gorgeous botanical drawing). I've been revisiting The Paper Garden with Mary Delany's intricate botanical collages created with scissors and coloured paper and thinking about the lovely gesture of adding flowers to diaries and letters. Throughout their correspondence Louise Hartung would send Astrid Lindgren flowers in the form of bouquets and bulbs or pressed and attached to paper.

Since Christmas we've had two different amaryllises indoors, red and pink. Ever since my older sister pointed it out, I like to think of it as the plant of the three Wild sisters - my sisters' names are Anke and Sibylle, so bits of our three names are included in Amaryllis, in chronological order (I'm the middle child...).

The red variety, as so many red flowers, is a symbol of love, but in Victorian times, the amaryllis was associated with pride (which was seen as a good attribute, denoting beauty and strength) and in China the red amaryllis signifies luck. A pink amaryllis is a friendship symbol and I have been drawing it on cards. All varieties represent hope as well. Our two specimens brightened up our rooms in the darker months before the garden came into its own.

Sketchbook | Emil

Sketch of Emil, winter afternoon sunlight

Some time ago on this blog I started and then quickly abandoned a regular series called 'Daily Drawings', in which I was going to post one or several of my daily drawings (or paintings) once a week - it was never going to be an actual 'daily' thing... Then my posting became sporadic.

It is easy to make announcements of fresh starts, especially at this time of the year. I am sitting here with a new diary and a new notebook, hundreds of blank pages with the promise of plans put into being, ideas realised and wishes fulfilled. My 2015 diary and its pages of densely written appointments and events (an estimated 10%), deadlines (20%) and random notes to self (70%) are in the recycling - not the fire this time.

I am hoping to post more regularly again, and this series shall be under the plain and more open and realistic title 'Sketchbook', though I have high hopes that I will sketch and paint every day. There will be some housekeeping going on here for the next few days (or weeks).

This is a drawing of my four-month-old nephew. More and more I feel the need to draw and paint people and things from my life. And I am encouraged by the feedback from others, including strangers. In the August exhibition the painting people commented on most was of my sister and her cat, the most personal piece in a lot of ways.

Scenttrack

Even though I am very much a visual person and have a good memory for faces, colours and scenes - I can recall a huge amount of detail from a room I have only been in for two minutes, though I admit it can be quite selective - scent seems to have a more visceral and immediate attachment to memories, a bit like music. A particular holiday when I was fifteen smells of the probably rather sickly kiwi fruit deodorant I was using then. On a recent road trip I ate a cookie from a petrol station, and the bakewell-like alchemy of the sugar and butter in it transported me to my late grandmother's biscuit tin and afternoon teas in her apartment.

There are scents I use so much they are a constant backdrop and therefore rarely connect to specific events in my mind; they are comforting in their familiarity - geranium, rose, jasmine, chamomile essential oils. And then of course I go through phases with particular teas and cosmetics, because I also like change and variety. Sometimes it follows the seasons, albeit not always consciously - I don't give up my spring and summer scent once autumn arrives; it's not suddenly all pumpkin spiced latte in my world, although I do like to mark the change of seasons in a lot of different ways. I just love when it's time for a new soap or when I pick up a tea I haven't had before or try a new recipe; it helps with getting out of a rut in other areas of my life. It's like that new-stationery feeling at the beginning of the academic year, a new start. And later those scents will be a big part of remembering certain occasions and events or simply that phase of my life.

The scenttrack of summer and late summer was made up of gifts mostly: the Cloon Keen Atelier lindenblossom handwash and hand lotion (and there is still enough left to last through the next six months. Also their Spiced Bark scented candle), the lime oolong tea from Le Palais des Thés and a tea tree and lemon soap from the Burren Perfumery (not pictured in the photo of the stack of soaps my sister had got). The illustrations I am working on are steeped and infused (metaphorically, though it's bound to happen that one day I will spill tea on my work) with those smells; I will remember drinking a lot of kuckicha tea in one of the driest Septembers on record, lying in the garden in my bikini (and just yesterday I had an impromptu picnic outside my house with a friend and her toddler); and of course I will remember all the time spent with the person behind some of these gifts, who has been drinking late-night cups of oolong with me and who is teaching me Irish by writing a new phrase on the blackboard in the kitchen every day (see second photo).

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Daily drawings | Wool

Another work-in-progress. Just playing around with Graphitint pencils, following the pattern of knit and purl on a moss stitch wrist warmer - the kind of drawing that is trance-inducing.

And noticing all the green around me moving towards a more muted palette among November's greys. 

I am wearing my green coat, knitting green socks and eating my greens. 

 

Daily drawings | Work-in-progress

I like the idea of regular posts with a specific theme, but so far have never managed to incorporate any in this space. Featuring my daily drawings here (but only once a week) might provide me with the self-imposed accountability that I often need in order to stick to a new habit.

A while ago I committed to drawing something just for fun every day, but when there are other projects to work on it is too easy to let it slip. After a busy couple of weeks I sat down again today, with fresh inspiration from a visit to my sister's house. 

Matt and Branwell were reading the paper together, and Branwell was all eagerly outstretched front legs and eyes. I am working on several drawings of this scene. Fathers with their babies are always a heart-warming sight, but for an animal lover who doesn't want children herself nothing beats a man holding a tiny four-legged.

Simplicity

Alliums on Matt's table

In a week that contained parts resembling a bad TV drama (absolutely nothing to do with my sister's first week in Ireland), I have reached Friday craving simplicity.

Apparently, I cannot even call myself an aspiring minimalist (I prefer the term Voluntary Simplicity anyway), as I show no signs of turning my house into an empty white box, but I accumulate far less stuff than the average person. However, things still have a habit of building up in volume eventually, and I spent several hours in cathartic mode - getting rid of shoes that are not compatible with my knee problem, doing paperwork, sorting through the pile of cuttings that I tend to chuck into a drawer rather than filing straightaway.

Part of me thinks I have no need to hold on to bits from magazines and newspapers, but going through them last night was inspiring, and I see the creative necessity for notebooks and folders filled with these snippets that I deemed worth revisiting. The randomness of this collection sparks connections and associations that help get me unstuck when it comes to art-making.

So I try to resist the frequent urge to throw them all out and delete all my bookmarks and my e-mail archives and give away all my paintings and drawings until everything is just pleasingly calm, empty space, because I can see how that is dangerously close to an anorexic mindset (the desire to take up as little space as possible and ultimately to disappear).

My sister and brother-in-law are waiting for the containers with all their stuff, and the whole operation makes me think how much easier it would be to own so little that moving would not be weighed down by one's possessions, but then again I am hardly planning a nomadic lifestyle, and I like being surrounded by books, art, clothes and objects that remind me of the people in my life, and as long as I stay on top of clutter and the cuttings are filed rather than jumbled together in a drawer, I feel comfortable. Outer order does contribute to inner calm, at least for anxious people like myself.

Cautiously optimistic (intentions for 2012)

I feel a bit torn about sharing plans and resolutions, here as well as offline. I find myself talking about some "project" I am working on and I worry it sounds pretentious. But I like the accountability that comes with sharing. I often tell people about my plans and dreams, in the hope that it will give me more of an incentive to actually realise them instead of having to admit failure or defeat. But I don't really care if I have to do the latter - I have become more gentle with myself. It also helps not to have a strict timeline - all those things I wanted to do years ago may be part of a (never actually expressed as such) ten-year plan, in which case I still have a year or two...

A lot of my long-term dreams have come true. I always wanted to live in Ireland, by the sea, and that's what I'm doing (the donkey in the garden hasn't materialised yet, though, but there is a field full of them just around the corner). I wanted to work as an artist, and although I'm not a full-time artist, I am happy I am working in the arts and grateful that I get the odd commission, and I find teaching fulfilling and inspiring. But in the last few years I have felt a bit stuck, stagnating, and although I realise that it may have been necessary, a time of healing, this year I have felt ready to get out of it.

Some years I didn't make any resolutions, and I can't say with certainty whether making any would have changed anything, but I found that this year it helped me to have some words to guide me.  I wrote them on the first page of my notebook and checked in occasionally. For me not making any feels like there is no structure; time just goes by without the thrill of new beginnings and fresh starts.

For 2011 I wanted to focus on the areas of health, work (the freelance part), relationships and fitness. I did get my health back in order, and I started exercising seriously as opposed to half-arsed. I got my own website, though never developed it (and haven't told many real-life people), and I started to work on something that I hope will turn into part-time work someday (small steps). I also connected with people more. 

So this year I want to continue with and build on all of the above.
As well as:

- Get better at working from home. Dedicate a portion of the day to working on commissions, etc., and stop telling people I'm flexible and available.

- Keep running and swimming and vary my routine more. Maybe sign up for a race or two. And walk more. Also finally acquire all the appropriate gear I need for these activities. It took me years to get the few items I own. I love clothes, but workout clothes were never a priority for me. Now that I have realised that not having any clean running clothes can easily stop me from going for a run, I will get some more - and I might even get walking boots (for hill walking).

- Get my hair cut professionally at least four times. For years I never went to the hairdresser, arguing that with long hair you didn't need to. I cringe when I look at old photos. Bad hair days aplenty. And although my sisters are quite capable, when I finally discovered the benefits of having your hair cut professionally it was a eureka moment, as I became aware that this was one important part of self-care and self-respect I had ommitted for so long, a simple ritual of changing your outer appearance and along with it something within (yes, I feel quite strongly about the transformative powers of having someone take care of your hair).

-Follow the skincare regimen that seems to work at the moment (involving oils - more soon) and start wearing SPF again

- Draw every day, anything

- Daily meditation, yoga or progressive muscle relaxation (I did well for a while, but fell off the mat in the last couple of months)

-Similarly, deep breathing every day - so important for overall health and calm, and so easy to forget

-Send more snail mail. I have a proper fountain pen and a small stationery collection. It's one of life's pleasures to receive something in the mail, but it has become so rare.

- Eat sugar-, dairy- and wheat-free most of the time, but treats are allowed.

- Be a better friend (see snail mail, but also to those around me - make more of an effort. I have lost touch with several old friends, and I am to blame for the most part. I know this is bound to happen after living in three different countries, but I could have been better at correspondence. Recent e-mails from people I haven't seen in years have moved me, and I intend to write more and see the friends who live near me more often)

-Maybe start cohabiting

So nothing major, no huge adventures planned (although the last thing on the list feels huge to me), but all these small things feel like steps in the right direction, and most importantly, they feel right.

Five-second drawing...

...and you can tell. However, I am quite fond of it.

It captured a lovely moment, sitting in front of the fire with Matt, sipping Pinot Noir. I drew it on Matt's iPad, a medium I never use normally (incidentally, David Hockney has been "painting" on the iPhone and iPad a lot). It may have been my only creative output that day, but it still counts. It was just a spontaneous doodle and not at all how I usually sketch (nor is that my usual handwriting), but it has made me recommit to drawing every day. I often find it hard because I worry I'll get frustrated if the outcome is not what I aimed for. But then I think of this quote, which is on the wall in my studio:

"To practise any art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make the soul grow. So do it."
- Kurt Vonnegut

Organising craft supplies

Just as I was beginning to feel smug about my almost super-organised home and the lack of need for storage solutions, I realised that my craft supplies had become one big tangled mess, literally - I spent an hour detangling wool.

My inner minimalist has to accept that being creative means having stuff in the house that's needed for making things. I struggle with this. I guess if I had a big studio I wouldn't worry about it, but with limited space even the amount of paintings I have sitting around tends to stress me out (that's one reason I like to give them away). Now that I am also knitting and crocheting like mad, i.e. on a bigger scale, there is more stuff that needs a home.

As long as there is a place for everything, I can relax. Though I do think that I might benefit from being more the creative-chaos type - perhaps my neat-freak tendencies make me produce less. I am lucky to have one room in the house that I use as a studio, and it has helped tremendously to have my paints, etc. within reach - and sight- instead of stored away. And paints and coloured pencils actually look nice, too.

I need to be able to see things in order to use them, otherwise I kind of "forget" about them. For example, if I keep certain spices at the back of a cupboard, they will rarely make an appearance in the meals I cook. But since I don't want them to clutter up the counters and haven't got a spice rack (I love beautiful glass jars on display), the solution for now is to have them in a drawer with labelled lids. I also store my essential oils like that:

...and some silicea sneaked in there, too...(Click to enlarge images)

So when I realised that my knitting and crochet supplies situation had gone out of hand, I decided to put some of them in a drawer, too. I would love to have them on a shelf, colour-coordinated, but I need to make space first. I am looking at you, CD shelf, in case I ever digitise my music collection...

Bigger balls of yarn and the piece I am currently knitting are still in the canvas bag that was housing the whole mess, but I put smaller balls and works-in-progress, as well as yarn ball bands and notes, in the drawer. When I open it I can see everything. I guess I just have to remember to open it.

Speaking of yarn ball bands, I now also write down everything I make and how I made it in a notebook and stick the bands on the opposite page:

That way I have all the information in one place. I know this may not be the genius idea I feel it is, and most people probably do this by default, but I used to be pretty sloppy about these things and throw out the bands. Keeping the bands is important, as they contain lots of information you might need - name and colour, in case you need to buy more, care instructions, material, weight, gauge, etc.

My knitting needles and crochet hooks live in this nice box, which is displayed in an open shelf:

 All this seems to work for now. The next area I need to tackle is my paper collection. It's in a pile in a drawer. The problem with a pile is that you only see the top. I am thinking some sort of overlapping system. Or a folder. I will do a post on it once I have figured it out.

Skin deep

Like most people women, I must have used hundreds of different beauty products in my life so far, in the quest to find that elusive product that will solve all my problems and will mean no more frizzy hair/shiny face/spots/spending too much time in front of the mirror. I want to simplify that area of my life and have less stuff in my bathroom (though I have to say my collection of cosmetics looks spartanic compared to those of my sisters!), but at the same time I like trying out different things. The latter is largely satisfied by my use of essential oils - by mixing them you get an infinite number of scents. I like to make my own cosmetics and with those I buy I prefer when they have as few ingredients as possible and/or are all natural, though not everything I use is 100% natural.

I still haven't found the perfect product in all categories, and it probably doesn't exist - after all, the needs of our skin change with the seasons, the menstrual cycle, weather conditions, etc. Recently, though, I have come a bit closer to perfection with some of the basics.

Because of all the above, and also because I like documenting things, I have decided to occasionally share here what I use and love, so I can refer back to it, and perhaps some of it is helpful to readers, too (with apologies to my very few male readers...).

Today, five rather random things I am absolutely sure I could live without, but wouldn't want to at the moment:
(please note that I do not get paid for any of the things I recommend on my blog)

...I also like that there is a lot of pink involved

The Tisserand Refreshing Deodorant Roll-on comes in glass packaging (apart from the lid) and smells divine. It says wild rose and lemon leaf on the front, but geranium dominates (as in a lot of their products). Geranium is a very strong scent and lifts the spirits, which is always good. I once noticed it on someone, and she revealed it was a Tisserand hand cream - that's what I will get once I finish my current one.

Weleda Wild Rose moisture cream - because I have oily/combination skin, for years I would only use harsh antibacterial creams and cleansers, which is just wrong, as it exacerbates the problem. In fact, oily skin needs oil, and once this cream is finished, I will get Dr. Hauschka's facial oil (I just used up a sample I bought). I also love this cream, though - it is quite rich, but ideal for when my face feels dry.. And it smells...of roses!

Aloe Vera and Lavender - a favourite ever since a friend gave me this years ago when I spilled boiling hot tea over my hip (and my brother-in-law's feet). It is cooling, moisturising and soothing, and I use it all over my body. To make it, mix a few drops of pure lavender oil into pure aloe vera gel.

Bio-oil: another multi-purpose product. I use it on pretty much everything it says on the bottle: stretch marks, scars, uneven skin tone...got them all. I also use it in the bath. I don't like that it's mineral oil-based, though - am trying to find a natural alternative.

Benecos nail polish: I got two of those in a health food shop in Germany - they don't contain all the harmful stuff that is usually found in nail polish. You need two coats for a good result, but it stays on for several days and the colours are gorgeous (at the moment, I am wearing this mud-colour -Urban Grey, a warm grey- on my fingernails and Wild Orchid on my toenails)

Reading

[Connors, Kathleen and Sally Bayley (eds.): Eye Rhymes- Sylvia Plath's Art of the Visual, Oxford University Press, Oxford 2007]

"I catch up: each night, now, I must capture one taste, one touch, one vision from the ruck of the day's garbage. How all this life would vanish, evaporate if I didn't clutch at it, cling to it, while I still remember some twinge or glory..."

(from the epigraph, an extract from The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath, p. 328)

I admire Sylvia Plath's poetry (as well as her fiction and autobiographical writings), and this book is a treasured addition to my collection of books by or on this poet. It sheds light on her engagement with the visual arts, with a lot of her own artwork published for the first time.

I found the parts dealing with the importance of colour in her life particularly fascinating, as the role that colour plays in our lives is an obsession of mine.

"[H]er use of blue, black and white were second to red in designing both her personal and literary environment [...] She surrounded herself with these colours, which she felt had positive psychological effects, influencing her mood and comfort level. Her journal notes and letters are full of references to such objects, where she stated that she taught better wearing colors, as well as textures, that did not 'war' with her 'body & thought'" (p.114)

I can relate to that -the colours I wear and keep around me definitely have an impact on my mood, and I often pick colours based on how I feel and what I need that day. As I have probably said before on this blog, I find pink very uplifting and calming, which may be because it is linked to the heart chakra, and that part of me needs a lot of protection (from the evils of the world!).


"Cada noche intentaré captar un sabor, un toque, una visión de la multitud de trastos del día. Cómo toda esta vida desaparecería, se esfumaría, si yo no tratara de agarrarme de ella, aferrarme a ella, mientras aún recuerdo alguna punzada de dolor, alguna belleza."
(del epígrafe del libro de arriba, un fragmento del diario de Sylvia Plath)

Me gusta mucho la poesía de Sylvia Plath, y este libro es una adición preciada a mi colección de libros por y sobre esta poeta. Trata de su arte visual, con muchos dibujos y cuadros suyos publicados por primera vez.

Me fascinan mucho las partes que hablan de la importancia de color para ella, ya que el significado de los colores en nuestra vida es una obsesión mía.

"Su uso de azul, negro y blanco vinieron después de rojo en diseñar tanto su entorno personal como su entorno literario [...] Se rodeaba con estos colores, que en su opinión tenían efectos psicológicos postivos, influyendo su humor y nivel de comodidad. Sus diarios y cartas están llenos de referencias a tales objetos, donde apunta que enseñaba mejor si llevaba colores, y texturas, que no estaban 'en guerra' con su 'cuerpo & pensamiento'." (p. 114)

Los colores que llevo y que me rodean influyen mi día, y suelo elegir colores que me hacen sentir bien y que me dan lo que necesito. Como he dicho aquí varias veces, el color rosa para mí eleva el espíritu y es calmante, quizás porque está vinculado al chakra del corazón, y esta parte de mí necesita mucha protección (de los males del mundo!).

some new (old) pictures

...very old, actually. The last one is just a bad photo of the previous painting, but I love how it turned out. I wish I had painted it like that. Blurred images have such a dream-like quality.

...sólo unos cuadros bastante viejos. La última imagen es una foto mala del cuadro anterior, pero me gusta como salió. Lo prefiero así. Es como en un sueño.

A month spent asleep

I really have neglected this blog -my apologies. My internet connection somehow survived the storm (see last post), but my phone is still not working, and I have done nothing about it.
Also, I haven't posted here because I have just been working and sleeping (more of the latter) - going to bed at 7pm on average. That doesn't leave much time for, well, life...

The weather has been terrible (and I don't often say that. I really don't mind the rain usually) -it is so stormy you can't walk without being flung around by gale force winds, and the country is flooded.

It is too dark to take pictures, so instead I shall post two from May this year, of a very productive (and sunny) afternoon in my house, when my friend came for a session of painting and tea.


A nice reminder of good times and possibilities...
(I know I keep posting old stuff - it's just that nothing is happening right now.)

No he estado por aquí últimamente -disculpad. El internet ha sobrevivido la tormenta (ve la última entrada), pero mi teléfono aún no funciona, y no he hecho nada para cambiar esto.
Otra razón por la que no he escrito nada aquí es porque cuando no estoy trabajando, estoy durmiendo. Me acuesto a las siete de la tarde! Y esto no deja mucho tiempo para, pues, la vida...

Hace mal tiempo (y esto no digo mucho; no me quejo de la lluvia normalmente) -está tan tormentoso que no se puede caminar sin estar empujada en todas direcciones por el viento. Y hay crecidas por todo el país.

Está demasiado oscuro para sacar fotos, así que pongo unas de mayo de este año, de una tarde productiva (y soleada) en mi casa, cuando vino una amiga a pintar y tomar té. Un recuerdo bonito de buenos tiempos y posibilidades...

(Sé que sigo poniendo cosas del pasado, pero es que no pasa nada en estos días.)

Máthair-mother-madre

This is a drawing I did when I was 17. It's one of the few pieces from that time that I brought with me when I moved to Ireland, and it's actually hanging on my wall right now. Because I really like it.
I deliberately made the hands and the whole upper body bigger -I wanted it to look animalistic, protective. A friend pointed out to me that it reminded her of Käthe Kollwitz's work, and it's true -it was around that time that I immersed myself in books on Käthe Kollwitz, so it is very likely that she influenced me big time.
I called the drawing "Máthair", which is Irish for mother. I'm not sure why I wrote it in Irish (it might have been during my first attempt to learn the language) -probably because I love the sound; it seemed to suit the image.

It looks like I'll be posting older work until I actually start painting and drawing again... But it is not just for that reason; I enjoy revisiting the work I did when I was younger, and I am documenting it here for myself (and in the humble hope that you enjoy it, too).

Hice este dibujo cuando tenía 17 años. Es uno de los pocos dibujos que traje conmigo cuando me mudé a Irlanda. De hecho, está colgado en mi pared. Porque me gusta.
Cuando dibujé esto, hice las manos y el tronco más grandes a propósito; quería que pareciera animalista, protector. Una amiga dijo que le recordaba la obra de Käthe Kollwitz ,y es muy probable que me influyó, ya que fue en esa etapa que compré libros sobre esa artista.
Llamé a este dibujo "Máthair"; es irlandés por madre. No sé por qué lo escribí en irlandés (quizás fue durante el tiempo cuando hice el primer intento de aprender ese idioma) -probablemente por el sonido de la palabra; me parecía quedarle bien a la imagen.

Parece que vaya a poner obras viejas aquí por un rato, hasta que empiezo a pintar y dibujar otra vez...Pero no es ésta la única razón: me gusta revisitar a cosas que creó cuando era más jóven, y las documento aquí para mí misma (y esperando que a vosotros os gusten también).

The need to document

This week has been very busy. I am back teaching, and the first week is always quite hectic (mainly because I worry a lot; the actual teaching is very enjoyable).
So I haven't had the time or energy to be very active in blogland, but I am hoping to get into the swing of things soon.
I realised today that one of the reasons I love blogging is that it gives me the opportunity to document things that would otherwise be ephemeral. I have been keeping various journals for a long time, and I have boxes and folders full of stuff, but a lot of things just slip through my fingers. And I know that's ok. I once lost everything that was on my laptop -writings, music, photos-, and while I was upset at first, it wasn't the end of the world. I am not too attached to material things. But of course a lot of things have sentimental value -photographs, books, artwork, heirlooms, etc.....

I was never one for taking lots of photographs, as I store and treasure memories in my head, but lately I have felt the need to do some more documenting.
There are periods of my life that I have absolutely no physical records of. They are like blank, empty spaces. And I somehow wish there was something tangible left of those times.

I went through one of my boxes of cuttings recently and came across images and articles that I cut out years ago, and I loved finding them again and being reminded of why they had been so important to me. Having said that, I also realised that I keep stuff I probably shouldn't. I love decluttering, yet I am also a collector...

Today I took a picture of this (please ignore the bad quality of the photo):


These three sketches somehow ended up together on my little table easel, and they have been sitting there for weeks now, as I like looking at them when at my desk. They probably wouldn't mean anything to anyone else, and they don't really go together, but there is something about this little group that I really like, and I couldn't bring myself to separate them... But now that I have posted them here, I can make space for new things.
Apologies for this rambling, incoherent post...