Flying with dragonflies
One stroke, drawn, another.
Sometimes, in the air, you are tracing lines —
like a conductor, lines drawn and gestured in the molecules of motion.
That line, in the stroke of air, is your imagination — again, like Nabokov’s birds — “Our imagination flies — we are its shadow on the earth.” As we stand and draw in the air — the lines of ideas are postulated, there is talk on the wind — principles are espoused in the gesture, the sound of the wind, whispered. But too, this is, can be, the path of other living things — they fly and turn and wheel and spin in the sunlight, shimmering like the glint of steel — the beauty way.
In drawing the calligraphy of air — the flourishes are the dance of the idea, the sweeping movement of the path of the living — which is an idea, a living form – the flight of the dragonfly. I thought about the power of these ancient insects, the fabulous tracery of their skillful flight — the superior and elegant architecture of their wings — these on brushstrokes, drawn on canvas — drawn with loaded brush, spinning and whirling, spattered — these ink strokes strike their own path of energy.
What I believe is that there are allegories between the mind — the conscious and intellectual — and spirited and unbridled imagination — the drawings of ideas and the paths of nature, the wind, the curl of the sea and the flight of the odonata — one grouping of flying insects that has been here on the earth millions of years longer than many.
Isn’t inspiration, truly — to draw in the air?
T. | d e c a t u r i s l a n d s t u d i o s
t i m
Girvin strategies of memory +
enchantment = audience engagement