Saturday, July 22, 2006


Brooke, on children's artistic impulses and the way they are being squashed by consumerism:

"I want Satchel to grab hold of his fat beeswax crayons that have a scent and vibrate with the work of the bees that made the wax. I want his pigment to be feathery one moment and a deep ravine of color the next. I want his art to tingle on his fingertips so that he knows his own strength of putting pigment on a page."

Gods- I just had to share that- that's why I read her. Eloquent, and the kind of mom I'd love to be. Also makes me itch to play with the chunk of pure beeswax I have buried in my studio supplies somewhere. I had great results last year with painting wax mixed with oils onto my sculptures. You can even collage with wax, and it smells like dirty honey when heated. Very sensual art experience.

I should be in bed with Molly, who's fast asleep, but I'm wide awake. It's kind of nice to be up late on a Saturday night and having a Saranac lager & surfing & writing my guts out. Feels like a temporary revisit to the land of the grown-ups.

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