Honorable mention of the English Forum poetry division.
Carefully containing the quiet wildness of watercolors.
Layering and layering to showcase acrylic’s plastic glow.
Cheddar-textured oils glide tastefully across the canvas,
Spreading the buttery scent over the sketch.
Digging my hands into the sulfur smell of plasticine.
Using my finger bones to ply the cold clay into a satisfying shape.
Rolling and rolling, loving the feel and forgetting to mold.
Admiring baked bowls and glassy glazes.
Smudging and rubbing, erasing and sighting,
Scraping the gravelly graphite across paper like laying down asphalt.
The charcoal powder staining my fingers and arms and nose.
Mark after mark, a series of scratches form the final picture.
Capturing a character in the tilt of the head, the reach of the arms, the size of the
eyes.
Finding the angles, noting the lighting, comparing the textures, testing techniques.
Negative space, chiaroscuro, balance, blending, movement, stippling, form, shape, and line.
Taking the steps, getting lost in the work.
Little made maker, learning to make.