Sketchbook: A vector in a ladder

Note: Here’s the third in a series of recent pages taken from my sketchbook, with a few words draped around the edges for context or color or play.

Exit

I sometimes draw ladders because they have a readymade pattern that is easy to repeat without much thought. They connect bottom to top. They point up and draw down. There is a suggested movement, a vector in a ladder, and I project myself onto them. They are human sized tools. Ladders scare me when I’m climbing up and down them to the roof of my house to do dumb things.

Tender planet

Metallic paint markers are excellent for bedazzling an otherwise boring blank page. Ingot is an excellent word. We live on a tender planet. I love this world. I love these worlds that you and I make together, or apart.

I walked into the woods

“I walked into the woods and found the sun, and the sun found my face, and chill turned warm and the world was right for a moment.” Daily reflection. Daily ritual. Daily, our cat looks annoyed, deigning to commune with us only for bodily heat.

History says good job

Arrows point to things, on the page and off the page. Black sludge spills out of the front door over jumbled words. Thoughts become obscured or negated or lost through layers of time. The message is fuzzy and mostly useless. History says good job?