Copyright © 2010 by Michael Corob. All rights reserved.
Every morning, before anything else,
I go out to my front porch to be with my garden plants.
I take my sketchbook, a pen, and an open mind. Stripe is there.
He sleeps in an old swivel chair, and he graciously gives up his seat for me.
He sits at my feet, looks up at me, and waits. I scratch his head, and he seems to smile.
The seat of the chair is still warm, and I scoot it forward towards the plants.
Pen in hand, I let my eyes wander over the surface
of flowers, leaves, petals, stems, patterns, textures, shapes and lines.
I touch, smell, listen, (and even taste the honeysuckle),
allowing my five senses to be filled me, pushing idle thoughts from my mind.
I find it! An interesting point of view!
I decide what to keep, how to fit it on the page, what to leave out,
and what to leave open for the viewer or Stripe to fill in.
Then I find a single point of a single leaf or petal, and begin to draw.
As my pen moves, Stripe rubs against my leg, reminding me that he is there,
requesting that I scratch is head, which I do.
Satisfied, he settles in a comfortable spot a foot or so away from me, and waits.
He is happy to be with me, it seems.
He does not watch me draw, but he likes being in the morning sometimes sunlight.
My pen travels around the page, and my eye follows very patiently:
I am surprised how detailed my morning drawing have become.
Half my mind wanders to bright ideas-
of new drawings and ways of sharing the light that flows through me:
the light force of nature my eye perceives,
then sends through my brain and heart, and to my hand to translate onto paper.
As I finish my plant sketch I watch Stripe- very still now.
I draw the contours of his ears, head, body, and gently sweeping tail.
I draw part of him behind the plants, to connect him to the experience.
When I close my book and get up from the chair Stripe’s ears pop up,
and he follows me towards the house.
He meows, and steps in front of my path, making sure that I do not ignore him.
He waited patiently, and now he wants his breakfast.
I feed him, and our morning routine is complete.
Copyright © 2010. by Michael Corob. All rights reserved.
The contents of this website, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission from the artist, Michael Corob. Images may be used and/or reproduced only with the written permission of the artist. Written contents may be used for educational purposes only.