Ink and watercolour. Part of my exercises in Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain.
“Writing restructures consciousness” — Walter J. Ong
“Reading isn’t only a matter of our brains; it’s something that we do with our bodies.” — Andrew Piper
A living bird in the bush versus a dead one in the hunter’s hand, that is the difference between a living thing and our knowledge of it. Language is a binding of life.
Handwriting is a dying art that finds new life as contour and shade in images. It is the closest thing I have to an original visual style.
The smell of an orchid, is it raspberry or coconut? It is delicate and exotic, reminiscent of a past love.
Sit around a dinner table and share a meal. Draw chairs near the fire to speak slow and long into the night. Gaze into each other’s eyes cuddled under blankets. Face to face, that’s knowledge.
Introverts have psychic powers, it seems. They read minds from micro-expressions and body language, interpolating meaning from words not said. They know the future by orchestrating a complex model of cause and effect in their minds, completing it from a rich mental catalogue of past events. Be mindful of the psychic powers of introverts.
A book is binding of truth: an assembly of numbered pages, a spine to hold it erect, a placement in a slot on a shelf. But no book reads the same twice — truth slips through.
Aldous Huxley is a reader-seeker, one of those who reads to discover truth.