A Resonant Bell
I began this drawing last night. Some beginnings feel like slogging through mud. I don't know what I'm making. I'm looking for something, but I don't know what. 

Keith Jarrett once said of his solo piano improvisations, "I have to find a way for my hands to start the concert without me."  For me, that statement was a revelation, a bell that's never stopped resonating. 

Last night, I was ill.  When I rediscover this drawing years from now (probably looking for something else) I won't remember how I felt when I sat down at the table to work a little.  Or how much better I felt a couple hours later, how the day no longer seemed wasted, because I'd at least managed this much. 

I don't know what this drawing  is, or represents, or may become. But I like it so far.