Here is the first page of my free write and the full text below . .  . Barbara 


When I make a brush line

I begin to love again - in a big way

I open - I find my way

I am in contact with the world

When I make a brush line

I breathe - my shoulders drop

I wonder - how will it all turn out ?

and then I come back to the brush

The water - the softness - 

the animal hairs - the bamboo

The upright view -

When I make a brush line I pause

and begin again

Each line each moment new

And yes - say it - I trust - I trust

and I return to myself

The brush line of my life

The touch on the skin

All the way thru

All the way down

to the core.


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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
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