OK. That's enough for now. I think I will do a few pastels.
Here's something I read the other night from a book of interviews with the poet Galway Kinnell, Walking Down the Stairs:
"If the things and creatures that live on earth don't possess mystery, then there isn't any. To touch this mystery requires, I think, love of the things and creatures that surround us: the capacity to go out to them so that they enter us, so that they are transformed within us, and so that our own inner life finds expression through them. The use of the term 'inner life' means that one is not quite whole, that one has an inner life and an outer life, and they don't quite come together. In the purest poem the inner and outer meet."
Substitute "artwork" for "poem" above.