Drawing with two translations.
I am a happily anachronistic geek: not only an artist who works with her hands, but one who still always makes working drawings, particularly when I am puzzling out the colors of any given piece.
Often, I bring colors home with me. Immediately after I made the drawing, I found this on the sidewalk, with no similar plants nearby. I only used portions, and not that vibrant pure green (but that will happen).
You see, the interplay of color and shape is music to me, something that still makes me feel the exquisite multitude of sensations that being able to hear music once provided. I walk outdoors without hearing aids, and prairies, mountains, seashore, woods and even alleys become symphonies; the tiny details of plants, fungi, lichen, bark and rocks are poignant intimate passages, loud and blatant or infinitely subtle, and sometimes I am blessed with the sight of a clear perfect note that can just pierce the heart and gut with delicious, soaring impact.
Back in the studio, deaf with my colored pencils, paints and dyes, I reach for a replication of the sensation I felt while experiencing particular passages. The drawings are my scores, the finished work a recording of the playing.
And then, I go back out to fill my eyes, to listen. Happy May / Beltane!