Another Version: A Semi-Daily Practice

art by author

Around this table we’d gather, cover it with food. In the end: scattered drippings and crumbs, bottles and glasses emptied or abandoned. A cat scavenging the remains.

 

art by author

Now, relocated, with a chair on one side only. On the other, a wall. The formerly kitchen chair, my chair. The formerly kitchen table: my workspace.

 

art by author

Sit here, apply color, observe contrast. Saturation. One bleeds into another.  One side into the other.

 

art by author

Form emerges. Lines describe. Try to make a habit of it. This, a repeating pattern.

 

art by author

Recall that cusp-of-the-new-year conversation about routine, discipline—the collective lack of it. This is not a daily practice,

 

art by author

but movement toward frequency. An attempt at commitment, or devotion, mostly an inconsistent exercise in making.

 

art by author

Pairing. One color with—one card with—another. Maybe another. Side-by-side: un-matched, in relation. What comes, together.

 

art by author

The suggestion of the organic: at times intentional, undeniable—part plant, part beast—at times unwanted. The insidious demand to be recognized, not seen.

 

art by author

This is occupation by card, by force—a number of forms extracted from some other nature—a quantity of nameless shapes gathering, multiplying, purpose unknown.

 

Elizabeth Witte is the Web Essays Editor of The Common.

Photos by author.

Another Version: A Semi-Daily Practice

Related Posts

Lost Farm

Lost Farm

CHELSEA STEINAUER-SCUDDER
My father—a botanist and grasslands ecologist with an always-beard and a worse-for-wear baseball cap—learned his trade amongst the shushing, windswept prairies of Nebraska. He never intended to voluntarily cast himself twenty-five miles out to sea.

Image of bluebells blooming in a forest.

Frost’s Footfall

PETER ARSCOTT
Frith Wood last spring was carpeted with bluebells, but it is the white patches of stitchwort that attract the eye now. As you stand at the top of the wooded hill, glimpses of the Herefordshire countryside can be seen through the vertical gaps in the trees, and beyond...

Galway Coast

Impact

WHITNEY BRUNO
Spending a day wandering down to Galway’s craggy coast always meant getting whipped red by the wind... But, at the same time, the feeling that I was always close to the water led me to find a little bit of Caribbean calm within the brusque Irish sea.