I had a wonderful time preparing this drawing for the recent Lowcountry Juried Art Exhibition. The method I'd worked out in grad school helps me feel at home within the boundaries of the picture plane. I enter the place as if it is a room or a clearing out of doors, then I ask myself what and who else are there.
I began with the placement of a piece of fence in the center. I cut masking tape to its dimensions and decided to place a fishing "water weight" or an anchor of sorts way underneath it, as if the fence were sending down its roots to feel for home.
The fence is derived from an old photograph of my grandmother as a child. She stands in front of a long picket fence which separates two places I imagine were familiar to her: the world in front where she smiles toward someone she loves, and the world behind the fence which may have held the safety of her home.
In this drawing, there are two rocks in the water. This is in case the anchor gets washed away and has to hold on to something. The sky is full of the arcs of ascending spirits in flight and the wave and protection of overhanging limbs.
Maybe it's about feeling grounded in a sea of change and mystery. The activity itself, layering color and shape with water and pencil, this is grounding and pleasant.