28 December, 2015. Outside, the wind blows microscopic particles of ice across and over the roof tops, clouds of the stuff surging and dancing and puffing like a live animal, wildly free. The mercury has dropped on the thermometer, snow covers the ground and decorates the topside of boughs, the crooks and crannies of tree limbs. The world is mostly white and black, with a bit of gray thrown in for good measure. Whatever few leaves had been left clinging, futile effort that it was, are now gone. Winter has arrived.
The dog whines and begs to be released into this world blanketed in white, while the cats snuggle next to the heating vent, cuddled into a furry ball for hours on end. Yes, winter has definitely arrived.
Christmas break is half way over – or is it that I still have half of my time left before returning to school? It sometimes depends on my mood whether or not the glass is half empty or half full. I opened a new Canson sketchbook today and soiled the first pages with ink. I’m toying around with a new tool, a Pentel Pocket Brush Pen – it’s about time, too: I’ve carried the pen around with me for a month now without having put it through its paces.
The pen is fun and forces me to further restrain my marks, limiting me to choose only the most important lines to place on the page. I rather enjoy the Zen-like requirement, even though it also forces me to modify my more natural free-flowing line quality. I could see this being a tool for drawings informed by Chinese brush paintings. (Pentel Pocket Brush Pen, Canson 180 degree Sketchbook; Liberty, Missouri)