gesso on my fingers
there's nothing like paint on your fingers to make you feel like an artist
I grabbed the camera to preserve that moment, that thought for myself
and I giggled because that first thought that had popped into my head was of Florence and the artist's guilds, the masters and then I said "hush girl" - that's a place to be revered...
this book I'm preparing, gessoing it's pages, is for my year long foray into the study of words
I'm only preparing a few pages now - it feels more fluid that way, not preparing them all
I can decide as I go what I want to do on the page without feeling I've er - painted myself into a corner
I love the front cover, with it's soft grey colours; hush is grey and pale, silvery with the first light of dawn, when the world around you is sleeping
or dark like a whisper in the night
hush is your mother's hand smoothing your hair after you fall
hush a bye baby
I just read North American Indians placed babies in the tree branches to rock them to sleep on the wind
I love that
It reminds me that when I was little I thought the trees were dancing - I didn't know it was the wind that was making them sway to and fro
I think I'm ready to believe it again...