Monday, March 26, 2007
Datebook 3-18 thru 25
Sorry, no quote for the 24th and 25th. I simply had other things to ponder. The weather was so beautiful that there were bike rides to complete. I also spent some time sitting in my garden having an "Artist's Date". The artist's date is a concept from the Walking in This World book, and I haven't held true to it every week.
The doorway is a sketch from memory. I was watching the movie Holiday, with Katherine Hepburn and Cary Grant—great movie and the third or fourth time I've seen it. Anyway, I caught a brief glimpse of the doorway of the house. I'm sure the details above the large globe are wrong, but I was having fun by the time I got to those details and just didn't want to stop.
The quote: "Eat a live toad the first thing in the morning and nothing worse will happen to you the rest of the day." —Author unknown
Gee, as much as I'd like to get the worst stuff out of the way first thing in the morning, I'm going to have to take a pass on this.
The background on this spread is the worst one in the book so far. The doodles helped a little since they cover some of it.
In the way of "less is more", I really like this spread. The sunset was one I saw from the train on the way home weeks ago, and I did it via reflection since I was sitting with my back to the west. The quote is the end of the one from the previous spread—it was rather long.
H.D. Thoreau's journal entry 17-Mar-1852:
"I catch myself philosophizing most abstractedly when first returning to consciousness in the night or in the morning. I make the truest observations and distinctions then, when the will is yet wholly asleep and the mind works like a machine without friction. I am conscious of having, in my sleep, transcended the limits of the individual and made observations and carried on conversations which in my waking hours I can neither recall nor appreciate. As if in sleep our individual fell into the infinite mind, and at that moment of awakening we found ourselves on the confines of the latter. On awakening we resume our enterprise, take up our bodies and become limited mind again. We meet and converse with those bodies which we have previously animated. There is a moment in the dawn, when the darkness of the night is dissipated and before the exhalations of the day commence to rise, when we see things more truly than at any other time. The light is more trustworthy, since our senses are purer and the atmosphere is less gross. By afternoon all objects are seen in mirage."