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Curious MixtureMatisse makes a drawing, then he makes a copy of it. He recopies it five times, ten times, always clarifying the line. He's convinced that the last, the most stripped down, is the best, the purest, the definitive one; and in fact, most of the time, it was the first. In drawing, nothing is better than the first attempt. |
   
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Wednesday, September 10, 1997
I dined at my sister's house tonight. I had forgotten that this was her and my brother-in-law's fourteenth wedding anniversary. She had forgotten too! But my brother-in-law had reminded her earlier in the day.
She and I had talked a few days ago about starting drawing lessons for her two boys once a week. We'll use that Drawing for Children book by Mona Brooks. I've read it before, and it really looks like a good system, but what made this a priority was my nephew in first grade, saying to us that "he wasn't good at art"! This attitude, too easily inculcated by school, must be done away with!
So I'll be going over there once a week.
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I dropped in on match.com to check out some of my new matches. Some of them might be worth writing to! I've exchanged email with some people from there, but not met any in real life yet. Some years ago I put an ad in the Seattle Weekly. I met a couple of guys that way, and got some letters from prisoners. I wouldn't be ashamed to be fixed up, if you know a likely candidate in this area! There certainly is no shortage of material for them to read about me.
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I found out that today was the last day for A----, one of my comrades in the bay. She's going back to India for two months. Apparently this had been discussed, but I had my headphones on and didn't hear. I'll miss her.
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How aggravating! I can remember driving through the Seattle Arboretum this afternoon, laughing to myself about some especially good topic for here, and now can't remember it! I really will have to start a small notebook. Heaven forbid that any of my pithy remarks should go unrecorded.
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