Plein air paintings, studio art and lessons
He doesn’t have an agenda, he just wants to draw. His strokes are deliberate. Confident. I don’t believe he is attempting to represent anything in his latest series of drawings, only experiment with lines. It is immeasurable my pride as I watch him proceed from page to page, dancing with lines and pattern, like watching snow fall. It’s quiet, graceful, unrehearsed yet somehow choreographed subconsciously. Some would say this is scribbling. I call it music to my eyes.
In the spring, we took a boggy family hike through a riparian gulch along Skyline Ridge. Our feet were wet with dew as we plodded across a green meadow that lined the creek and opened to the morning sun. Spiders scampered underfoot. But the boys mostly chased each other, shouting southern anatomical parts and faceplanting into the foot-high grass occasionally. We stopped for lunch on an oak knoll, and passed around sandwiches and sunscreen. Out of my pocket I fished these intact turtle scutes that I’d found on our walk up there around an alpine pond. I figure they’re either from a painted turtle that got caught by (like I’d know, right?)…a coyote?
Scutes are like the skin on a turtle shell. In fact, it’s derived from the epidermis. The word ‘scute’ is derived from the Latin scutum, which means ‘shield.’ The shell, or carapace, can withstand great injury in order to protect the turtle; even deep cracks or entire missing portions are then filled with bone and then able to heal. The carapaces grow outward like the rings in a tree trunk. Just look at the beautiful patterns they make over time! And that, my chelonian buddies, is proof that the God drops acid.
More SPC patterns here.
One thing about Damon is that he’s an easy caricature. In fact, he’s his own brand. I think I’m going to take this somewhere, if he doesn’t beat me to it.