Pencil Noir #8

December 20, 2015 By in Art, Pencil Noir, Poetry Tags: , , , , , , , , 33 Comments

 

Winter Solstice 2015

Every December for the past few years I’ve curated a storm of snowflakes from white paper. I’ll accumulate a blizzard eventually. Try as I may, because they’re small, I’ve never been able to duplicate the same snowflake twice.

Each year seems to have a certain design theme…a defining scissors Rorschach test of sorts. Some years they’re gracefully hypnotic, one year  like a child cutting with blunt scissors. Last year the flakes looked more like an archaic language waiting to be deciphered. This year I wanted to branch out and so I added glue, a pencil and a little paint.

There’s not enough peace in the world to feel giddy this year making paper snowflakes. Not that there ever has been enough peace in the world, but lately peace seems more fragile. I’m aware of the families sleeping in tents and under trees along the roadside. I think of the children as I draw.

I’ve also been daydreaming about the absolute quiet of snow. I wonder, what would it be like if the entire world experienced a few days of absolute quiet?

 

Drawing collage by j.h. white

33 responses

  3. A few days of absolute quiet yes that would be nice. It’s actually unseasonably warm here in the UK so snow seems unlikely. Wishing you a very merry Christmas Jana..

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  5. I couldn’t resist the Neruda. Your beautiful Solstice child appeared as I was preparing my own Solstice Child for posting. Confluence. Your drawing and your meditation on snowflakes and where we are all at…nicely rendered and written as ever…so much food for thought, a pause from the madness…

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    • You know Hariod…I’m not inclined to even following a recipe when I cook but there is something restful about looking at a photograph and using it as reference to take off from while sitting at my kitchen table getting lost and found in pencil dust and whimsy. This photograph I found reminds me of my grand daughter. Spicy lass and strong. Also of myself long ago singing hymns to the trees wandering alone through the snowy streets under street lights (Gregorian chant as a child alto in choir..they called me “foghorn”) Signs of aging? Good ones!

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  9. I love your tradition of making snowflakes, it seems that your little girl has caught them on her collar with a blush of gratitude on her timeless face. It is a gorgeous drawing and I can hear the absolute quiet of snow that you speak of, the peace settling as I am sure it will xx

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    • Oh so interesting…The ‘plotters”… We need to up it then. Indifference to life is a tough nut to crack.
      Okay…Let’s envision a silence of silences… a silence of all thought! Everyone encapsulated in “not-knowing” BUT still responsive to natural stimuli…the winds, the waters, the sun, the sky, birds singing, a child’s cry….
      Peace be to you and to yours my dear!

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  11. Sitting at the kitchen table, pencil, scissors and glue in hand. curating a snow storm… over the years. Mind wandering in and out of the darkness and sorrow of our days. Yet… still… drawing, cutting, gluing and telling, as the snowflakes gather and drift.

    This is a lovely post (drawing and writing). Somehow it contains… just about everything. Light. Shadow. Thoughtful hand and open heart.

    May the quiet of snow be there when you wish… and a bit of revelry always within reach. Have a wonderful Christmas season Jana!

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    • Thanks for the wish Chris! But you’ll probably see snow before I will. Snow memory runs deep though. Say hello to it for me when you’re out making tracks, okay?
      I wish you a bit of revelry yourself this season before sliding into the new year. Ah…hear it? It’s calling us….

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    • I hear you there!!!

      I’m learning about friendships like ours Geo
      we’ve often been each others mirrors
      out in space
      both from distant and different universes
      finding our way home

      Like I once said…
      It’s a solo journey
      but you never do it alone

      Love to you and yours!

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    • Each year at this time, Steven, I grapple with finding substance….as we all do. A worthy challenge of the season….exploring the parameters of gratitude and simple communion. Thank you for adding your thoughts to this!
      All the best to you and yours as we (creatively!) slip into the seminal season of winter.

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    • Hi Ellar… sounds like the plot of a good story….you have me speculating. This was written in December just about the time when the noise level reaches it’s fevered jiggle bells peak. I didn’t actually think that it was hard to hear the screams and cries of the hopeless a midst all the noise.

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      • I didn’t think you did, it is just what your words evoked for me, these “few days of absolute silence” would make it easier to hear, to feel, to listen amist the senseless blabber we’re now surrounded with every day.

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        • Well…that was my original thought. But I think you appreciate a good noir as much as I do. As a story line I was trying to imagine something unexpected. And then all that quiet just seemed too good…the story might need more than just a few days of it. Ha! Thanks Ellar…

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