147. In the Woods

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.

88. Roses in the Wind

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.