Inktober is done and gone . . . this past week I’ve been sewing like a fiend, last night there was a mass shooting down the road from us with a thirteen people killed and eighteen wounded – more – there are fires to the east and west of us, and the wind is blowing like crazy. There is peace in ink.
I saw some climbing roses against a bright white wall, dancing with the wind. The play of light and dark, flickering shadows, and the swaying of the roses in the wind – tried to catch it in this morning’s sketch. No lines, direct watercolor.