DREAMING of drawing. Seeing beautiful things - horses, people - and making marks to respond to the beauty.
Beauty, eh - whats that about? I suppose you know it when you see it but its such an iffy word, so subjective and prone to sentimentality. Maybe I need to think more about it.
About to start the selection of drawings for the exhibition and catalogue. Writing this instead.
Also dreamt, with shocking clarity, of pulling a forked fishbone out of my nostril.
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