farm work

a sense of leaving filled the last few days at the farm

 that separation of me from place began early I think 

 in a bid to hang on to the simple beauty of following the rhythm of the light I gathered materials that lay at my feet and began to work with them

grasses were printed by pressing them onto a pigment ink pad and in turn onto the pages of a small book I had made in the preceding days

an acorn cap was also pressed on to the same ink pad and then holding on to the stem end it was twirled over the page, the tiny marks finding a pattern of their own

a very scruffy sketch of a young oak tree Maggie, the alpaca liked to stand beneath and quietly watch me come and go 

a very old, almost falling apart bird house on a faded fence, the branches of a nearby evergreen providing a beautiful backdrop

flowers pressed and smeared on the page, the acorn cap for marks and show-through marks from a print on the next page 

a print of grass on the right, a sketch on the left

another sketch, this time a lichen covered oak twig

almost all of this was done in less than an hour

seems I'm no longer as intimidated by the blank page as I used to be

I think that's a direct result of my daily evening sketches... there is that new-found confidence that once I start I can work with what I've got, the first marks are just the beginning and perfection is not required

home now, though I did bring some gatherings to make ink, paint and dye with and will get to work on that this week

this little book is not yet full