The Dancer with the Full Moon in her Throat, sketch 2, 2011, 20cm x 28cm, 8" x 11", India, ink, graphite, Moleskine Folio Sketchbook A4.

Before coffee this morning I got out my Rotring EF pen, the one in which I now use KOH--NOOR's 'Fount India - drawing ink for fountain pens,' a beautiful find. You cannot use permanent India inks in fountain pens because the enamel in the pigment will cause them to clog. Finding one specially formulated for a pen gives you something that will not smudge or blur when you brush it with coloured inks, or washes of oils, acrylics or other media.

The little drawing of the Woman Dancing the Dance of the Full Moon in her Throat is coming along. I like the imperfections in the pose, the slight awkwardness of mismatching. I think I will lengthen her legs, and then see where the sky can go. Round it off a bit better, and then either keep making more lines or brush some sort of colour in the drawing. Who knows.

That's the best part about drawing so freely. You let the pen in your hand take you along. One thing suggests another and off you go.

The Dancer with the Full Moon in her Throat, 2011, 20cm x 28cm, 8" x 11", India, ink, graphite, Moleskine Folio Sketchbook A4.

The Dancer with the Full Moon in her Throat, sketch 1, 2011, 20cm x 28cm, 8" x 11", India, ink, graphite, Moleskine Folio Sketchbook A4.

Instead of watching a movie, Fellini's 'Satyricon' on the burner waiting, saw it years ago, I drew. Been busy the past few days, and I should sit back, but I don't relax too well. From my Moleskine Sketchbook... hopefully finish in the morning. Or maybe stay up... the full moon needs to go in, I think she is dancing a dance of the full moon, and that means a dark sky, and lots of ink... the full moon is in her throat, I see it now, and in the night sky.

She is reaching for her throat, for the full moon.

The plum, dark purple skin, pearl yellow flesh, firm, a sharp juice, releases sweetness to the tongue, like swallowing the moon.

Wherever I am touched, light summer dress, underwear, couch, skin on skin behind knees, head under braided hair, I sweat.

The species will come to an end; perhaps she is the last radioactive woman. 

(today's frenzied drawing)

skinbones, 2011, 20cm x 28.5cm, 8" x 11.25", India, acrylic and fountain pen inks, watercolour pencils, Moleskine Folio Sketchbook A4.

I'm thinking that this did not turn out at all, but I suppose I should let it sit for a bit. I was inspired by the show of plastinated bodies, which I did not see, but have poured over images of. This image broods, however. Maybe it is about illness, or the aging process. Or some kind of horror film. The background is a 'scribble' cursive, and I had hoped the white ink would have a 'graffiti' look, but I don't think anyone else would get this association. She had one arm raised but I covered it over. The species will come to an end; perhaps she is the last radioactive woman. A dark piece, whatever it is.

The sky has too many blue patches where the sun shines through for the promised thunderstorm to drench and cool. We wait, wilt.

Sketch, 2011, 19cm x 25.5cm, 7.5" x 10", India and acrylic inks on Moleskine Folio Sketchbook A4.

Words: CONFIGURE IT

A little sketch I just did, sitting here, sweating in Toronto's heat wave...

I stare at Inca stonework. We carve away at sections of ourselves, until we fit, until you couldn't drag a knife through us.

Like a nymphaea, a water lily, lazing on the thick surface of river water in this heat wave of fan wind blowing across my skin.