by Steven McCabe
Over the last four days I put long hours into my (mostly done in blues) Druidica painting on the 33′ X 5′ roll of Fabriano mixed-media paper.
Too much dark coffee and not enough water. I unrolled and rolled the paper like a scroll on the floor – mostly in silence.
A fellow down the street wheels his wheelchair into an alcove to stay out of the wind. Today he was playing music from a French composer. It sounded like a film score from the sort of movie that no longer exists.
I found the following drawing & short poem as a draft and moved a few words around.
I follow the star
to a newborn
perfuming the grove.