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DECEMBER 11 TO 21
Between 12/11 and 12/21 we lost 8 minutes of light at dawn, and 6 minutes of light at dusk. |
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12/11/00 The moon is full tonight. the coyotes sing, and very cold weather is on its way. For the last 10 drawings, I am adding Payne's gray watercolor to the earlier palette of Prussian blue and burnt umber. |
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12/17/00 Warm evening (42 degrees), clear cold sky and stars abound. We are in the trough of winter light. I am suspended, waiting, and anxious. The winter solstice will arrive soon. I read the light all day and keep a watchful eye on sky and shadows. I love the experience of the light rotating over me until it is gone for the day. It never stops or falters, and it doesn't miss a beat. |
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12/19/00
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Dawn was exquisite, and I am thankful. The crescent moon is my guide, and the four directions are my partners. A "Saran Wrap" film of ice covers the earth. Relief and tenderness fill me. Finding my way, going on my path to investigate its edges, cutting new paths, rediscovering old ones, repairing some, and never looking at the map. Beginning a new cycle: at 7am I'm drawing the fir bough I see from the window of my office. I draw on the left-hand side of a sheet of rice paper with graphite and felt markers in whatever available light is in the room. The finished drawings go to the bottom of the pile and in the time it takes them to resurface the light and season will have changed, and on the right-hand side of the page I'll redraw an image of the fir bough for comparison. |
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