The beauty of reflection::what do I see mirrored back at me, who do I see, who is she gazing at me?
Drew a pencil sketch while looking at my reflection, tracing the features that I beheld. I didn’t recognize myself in the drawing but the hand drew what the eye say and the flow felt fine, so, moved into going over the pencil with watercolor pencil and applying a light wash. It looked like this when I was done, and I’ve left it for now to reflect on and return to later . . ..
On the blank beside page drew Moon, then felt like having it held, so Ahmad posed holding a gourd shaker and I sketched his hands around Moon, holding it; added a tree growing out his hands into Moon. This me looks kind of anxiously hopeful, despairing, offering . . ..
Abstractify? Who is she? An inner me? Outer me? Moon me . . .
What different multitudes of layers and colors and textures and patterns are there to be discovered? From where . . . hair, wrinkles, clothes, eyes, shadows, lips, chins, jewelry, what’s being given and extended . . .? Am leaving her be as she is for now, maybe come back to her another lunar orbit.