my freewrite:
When I make a line I have to be present in my body. I have to remember to keep my feet on the floor - and I am very prone to squirming. I have to keep the brush vertical and my wrist cocked. I have to rotate gently while keeping the line straight - and to feel that I am moving from my core, rather than from my head. I have to exercise gentleness and precision in order to get the rounded-edge at the beginning, 'folding over the laundry' gently so that my brush doesn't end up flattened into two factions of threads. I have to remember not to hold my breath. If I fail at any of these things, I have to let it go and continue on with the process. When I make a line the line becomes the evidence of my existence. The whole world dims and it's just me and the brush and the page.
-Katie
Love these "squirmy" letters describing so much . . .
ReplyDeletecould you type it out too ?
I want to enjoy the texture - the source of all the juiciness -
and then have the meaning revealed through type !
done!
Deletewow Katie - I love all these "I have to. . ."s ending with "I have to let it go -"
ReplyDeleteand it becomes "evidence of my existence" "just me and the brush and the page"
oh and also "folding over the laundry" - so much natural wisdom . . . !
thank you :) 'folding over the laundry' is a direct quote from you!
Delete